Potia’s Poetry and Articles

Articles

• Ritual and Elements – a ternary approach. This article was written for members of Caer Clud to provide some theory about the Celtic ternary approach we have been using in ritual recently.
• Handfasting Information – Some general information on handfasting for Pagans and non–Pagans.
• Dance through the Veils – an account of my first visit to the Island of Arran, Scotland.
• Druids and Trees – an article on working with trees first published in SPIN, the newsletter of the Pagan Federation in Scotland.
• Rites of Passage: a personal view – an article on Rites of Passage written for SPIN.
• Journey to find a Goddess – a personal account of Potia's experiences in learning about the Goddess Epona.
• The Four Sisters – a story inspired by a visit to Arran, first published in SpiritSong, the magazine of SONG.

The Thunderer

Do you see Him?
There on the horizon
Prancing high in the sunlight
Like some supernatural being.
Blacker that the deepest night could ever be,
Wilder than the fiercest wind,
Strong and unmovable like the sea.

Look at Him ~ so beautiful!
Watch Him move, muscles bunching,
Rolling under a sleek coat.
Thundering over the ground
As fast as the eye can move.
He stops _
Scent of something strange in the air.
See Him rear, protecting His territory.
Hooves flying high,
Free and untameable.

To come close to Him brings danger ~ Fear!
Yet to live not knowing this beauty
Not hearing His song
Or sensing His breath as He nears.
Not to see His eyes bright with life
Watching you ~ distrust in their depths.
Not to know this Great Black Stallion
That would be the deepest shame of all.

Spring

Reaching up, see the trees,
Through their branches, hear the breeze.
Let the sun warm your back
Though earthly things you lack.
Hear the birds in the sky,
Feel your own living sigh.
Rejoice that you're here
At this new time of year.

Bend down, smell the earth,
Let the scent of rebirth
Rekindle your life.
Forget all your strife.
Just sit there awhile
Let your whole body smile.
Let life banish fear
In this fresh time of year.

Seasons

The seasons come and also go
In a cycle of life and death.
And in that ring, we too I know
Will draw our final breath.

The burst of Spring so fresh and green,
Abundant with all life renewed.
Our childhood steps are also seen
Among the vibrant hued.

In Summer’s flush of energy
Full growth and adulthood are found.
While passions flow in you and me
The Oak once more is crowned.

The Autumn leaves are falling fast.
John Barleycorn is slain once more.
Maturity is found at last,
Like shells upon a shore.

The Winter’s frost comes calling round,
And Holly now becomes the King.
While life now makes it’s final sound
The soul begins to sing.

But do not think that there it ends,
The cycle will still turn again.
The Seasons flow and spirits send
Their hopes to ease our pain.

I am

Who am I? - What am I?
I am nothing; I am no-one;
I am something; I am someone.
I am Love and I am Hate.
I am Loneliness and I am Friendliness.
I am Ill; I am Health.
I am Poor and I am Wealth.
I am The Cure and I am The Cause.
I am nothing and I am something.
I am no-one and I am someone,
That is Who and What I am.

White Mare

Where Winter’s blanket meets the deep midnight sky,
There you can see the White Mare fly.
Beneath the moonlight silver and clear,
True magic at this time of year.

Her mane and tail are streaming out
As She speeds sure footed, never a doubt.
A stream of light follows Her passage
Bringing the joy of Her wonderful message.

Life is for living as hard as you can,
To enjoy every moment, that should be your plan.
The beauty of Winter, as lovely as Fall,
As Spring and as Summer, Her Love made them all.

The White Mare paused, looked me straight in the eye,
Her beauty and wisdom it made my soul cry.
Then She wheeled and She started once more to fly
Where Winter’s blanket meets the deep midnight sky.

Red Stallion

The first time I saw Him
He was racing the dawn,
A streak of fire in the growing light.
I stood in amazement
At His morning ritual,
A deep Red Stallion showing His might.

The next time I saw him
’Twas a bright summer’s day.
He stood, majestic, under the Oak.
His mane glinting softly
In the warm golden light,
Combed out gently by young fairy folk.

The last time I saw Him
He was vibrant and strong,
A Lord of Summer watching His herd.
The mares all grazed quietly,
Youngsters danced in the sun.
Peaceful summer in a hectic world.

Arboreal

I have thrust my feet into the dark, rich earth and fed,
I have drunk from the crystal waters of the depths,
I have clothed myself anew, in shades of green, to greet fair Spring,
I have been washed clean in Summer’s rain,
I have shed my raiment, now gold and scarlet, at Autumn’s command,
I have stood proud and naked before Winter’s sun.

I have housed a million lives within my boundaries,
I have watched lovers embrace at my feet,
I have comforted the lonely child in my arms,
I have been cut down and my body used to bring warmth,
I have grown once more in the cycle of life,
I have been one with the Forest, yet a single being.

I am the Tree.

In the Morning Mist

Fleeting images flowing
One past the other
Connected, yet not connected.
This is my vision.

She waits in the valley
The morning mist gathered about Her.
As She moves Her dapple coat
Shimmers in the dawning light.

She watches the water flowing past,
Autumn leaves dancing on it’s surface,
A river of dreams passing by.

If asked She will guide you
Through the gateways She guards,
Her movements all harmony
Where you alone would stumble.

She watches as your dreaming flows.
Images dancing through your mind,
Like streams joining the great river of experience.

Fleeting images flowing
One past the other
Connected, yet not connected.
She brings my vision.

Spring Day

Hear the deep, slow beat,
Feel it through your naked feet.
A low pitched hum
Spring made welcome

Hear the Oak’s call
To the legions standing tall,
“It is time to be seen
in our mantle of green”

My soul seems to swell
At that deep natural bell
That wounderous hum
Of Spring made welcome.

Spirits of Glasgow

Ancient Clyde, I stand on your banks and dream
Of times long past when you flowed wide along this valley,
Bringing fertility, nourishing generations with the bounty of your waters.
Hand of man has narrowed your path since then.
Shipyards grew along your built up shores
Providing work for new generations,
Until now with yards closing and jobs no more.
What will your future bring?

Dear Green Place, at one time trees in all directions
Then man came and brought fields to take the place of trees.
Fields of rich earth to grow food for all
Rich grazing for cattle and sheep.
Then more buildings grew and still more
But still you are deserving of that title.
Now parks abound between city buildings
Trees, shrubs and flowers displayed within them.
And in the streets more trees flourish.
Will you always remain so green?

I turn now to you, streets of Glasgow,
Terraced flats, “The Close”, spread out within you.
Communal washing lines at the back.
“The press” by the door with broom, brush and pan
And maybe a mop and bucket within.
A “piece and jam” thrown to the kids playing in the street.
A fish supper for dinner with lashings of salt and vinegar.
“Mornin’ hen” from a neighbour as you pass
Smiles from the people of the friendly city.
Will you always remain so welcoming?

The University with its throngs of students
Gothic style buildings with tower and quadrangle.
The memory of thousands of students walking your paths,
Climbing your spiralling stairways.
Four hundred and fifty years of history.
Scientists, linguists, artists, politicians, medics and vets,
All these and more have grown within your walls.
How long more will you help our future learn?

At your heart shopping centres, offices, theatres and clubs
Where thousands gather to shop, work and play.
Streams of people flowing along your streets.
Parade of buses taking people out from the centre
Carrying your blood to your limbs.
Never silent, never truly resting
Cycles of rush and noise as you breathe, your heart pulsing
With the rhythms of the city you have become.

Railways and roads carry us around your body,
Carry us beyond and back again.
We become your words as we take your messages out
Beyond your boundaries to the land beyond.
Words of a Spirit strong and powerful,
Of a life long and fulfilling.
We carry your words to the peaceful spaces of the country
And we return to the vibrant rush of your life
With messages of love from your brothers and sisters
Of the land beyond the boundaries of The Dear Green Place.

Blessings on a Rainy Day

Streams gently flowing down the hill
Rain softly falling where it wills
Song richly growing from my heart
Of Life they’re all a wondrous part.

Joy flowing out from me to you
Love shows us all just what to do
Smiles shared a blessing rich will bring
So join with me to dance and sing.

Sun shining on a summer’s day
Child’s laughter will show you the way
Peace flowing out to all you see
Life’s everything it ought to be.

Waiting

The spare room is no more now,
We have a nursery instead.
Walls of lavender, glowing stars stuck on.
A cot in one corner, a chest of drawers beside,
Clothing and bedding sitting within it.
In our room, by our bed waits a crib.

Nursing bras and night-shirts,
Birth-plan, nappies and maternity pads
All have been gathered and packed.
Baby bath and changing mat,
Pushchair and car seat
Everything ready but you are not yet here.

As I sit here today I am waiting,
My belly swollen, my breasts enlarged.
All I can do now is wait,
Wait for the star of this act to arrive.
Wait for you growing within me,
Wait for you, our child to be born.

Rain in the Afternoon

Rivers stream down the pavements
Autumn leaves caught up in the relentless flow.
Sheets of rain lash at the rooftops
Soaking the people I see in the street.

The air is clearer; humidity leaves for a while
And freshness returns to the city.
I breath deeply as I listen and watch,
My window wide open to share in the deluge.

The rain eases a little and the sky lightens.
Still the water flows along the pavements.
I feel such contentment sitting here
Warm and dry in my office, observing the shower.

It’s time to go home now but still I wait
Watching the rain, breathing the air.
I know the river will be swollen and heavy
As I walk beside her on my way home.

I am reluctant to move but I must go.
I don’t want to break the weather’s spell,
To rejoin the pulse and throb of the city
Where no one has time to enjoy the rain.

Onward I go down the streets
Face upturned to receive the rain’s blessing.
Am I the only person smiling?
Does anyone else enjoy rain in the afternoon?