Poetry

To me poetry is about calling on and connecting with the muse; a sometimes elusive, yet ever present ‘river of the imagination’, linking the Divine with the Everyday.
Poetry touches deep within, journeying from joy to grief and back again.

Poetry touches deep within

An essential reservoir; continuously refreshing and re-invigorating as it flows, journeying from joy to grief and back again.
Expressing emotions which can add to that ever flowing river, and through that, irrigate, refresh and renew, not only the inner landscape of the soul, but the outer landscape of community and culture, stirring and connecting humanity at its selfless source. This is what poetry is capable of.   By honouring Awen*, we allow Spirit to flow. ‘Awen’ – in the ancient language of these islands – alludes to “Flowing Spirit”.

© All rights of the author of the original work reserved.  
Writings or poetry may be referenced or read for non profit purposes, so long as the original author is credited

Legend

JJ MIDDLEWAY  –  27th August 1998 For once it was Each hollow hereabouts Had Names and Legends ancient Engraved upon Earth-Bones And rivers flowed with

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Truth In The Tongue

  Prelude:   Unlike those who govern our lands these days,  The Druids were reputed for administering justice and honouring truth. This is reflected in

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The Riddle Of Spirit

The Riddle of Spirit It seems that alcoholics Are great sensitives For whom the rigours and Horrible splendour of the world Are just too much

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Come Dream

Come dream the world anew For the time it is upon us As the land cries out Let consciousness be stirred Redeem all Wells and

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Sky Skating

When on the wind I freely skate And graze the very silk clouds of creation Wave, turbulent wave Such is the remit of full life’s

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Ode to the Goddess

Ode To The Goddess

Oh Lady thou art fair of face Blessed with beauty, poised with grace Soft sunlight permeates your form As you reflect the golden dawn Contrasting

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Earth Passion

A passion for this Earth I feel Compassioin which is so, so real. My blood flows through earth’s laval veins My tears reflected in her

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A Poem in the Snow

Winter snow Poetry eludes Strange To come to winter The trees bend, buckle and break under the weight of fresh snow My legs bend, buckle

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I Am

I am Human flawed and frail I am Seeker of the Grail I am Poet tortured bliss I am Love passionate kiss I am Healer

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