Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

My jasmine-scented backyard draws me to sit and rest like nothing else can.

It is evening – when the aromas are most powerful, and I am sitting in the gathering gloaming.

I can smell honeysuckle and the long blooms on my oak-leaf hydrangea that has grown taller than me this year.

I’m watching the shadows deepen as I bathe in Nature’s perfume.

The late Spring/early Summer evening is heavy with love.

I am glad to see the first fireflies in the deepening gloom.

Their love-dance of momentary brilliance seems fraught with desperation but their flight is so Fae it makes me happy.

Even with the traffic sounds, it is serene in my backyard.

I am serene.

How can I so love a world that shows me such tender beauty that even the breeze holds Her breath,

Yet a hometown away, a dear loved-one struggles to live, just one more day?

I’ve performed my magic and chanted my chants and lifted her into the care of She-Who-Hears-Our-Suffering and She-Who-Heals.

She is there and I am here, and we are both under the same sickle-new-moon.

O’ Moon, send her my love and bear her to the other side on your gentle moonbeams.

May her passing, when it comes, be as serene as my soul in my backyard.

It is the best I could wish her for her journey.



For my sister-in-law, Debbie

May 2018


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It seems my blood runs in poetry each year during May. It is a pattern I’ve just now begun to realize. Perhaps it is my Moon in Taurus that drives me outside where nature’s beauty in my little piece-of-earth sets my soul to pondering when the sun moves into this Astrological Sign.

One of the benefits of a long life, (I’m just 63, but that is nearly ten years more than my mother lived) you begin to notice the connections in your life as it moves through the Wheel of the Year. The Wheel of the Year is a celebration of the cyclical changing of the seasons and rotation of the sun. The holy days are defined as Sabbats. The Sabbats are known to Witches and many Pagans as the following:

Sabbat Name

Common Name Astronomical Event

Calendar Date


Christmas Winter Solstice

December 21


Groundhog Day Cross Quarter Day

February 2


Easter Vernal Equinox

March 21


May Day Cross Quarter Day

May 1


Midsummer Summer Solstice

June 21


Lammas Cross Quarter Day

August 1


Harvest Home Autumnal Equinox

September 21


Halloween Cross Quarter Day

October 31

But, thinking about the patterns of my own life, perhaps I need to make my own Wheel of the Year.

My Wheel begins at Imbolc when I begin to ponder the ‘calling’ of the year. It is my birthday month so perhaps, as many of us do, we take stock during our annual solar return and begin to think what we need to begin work on so that we grow into the people we want to be. Imbolc could be my calling for the year time.

Ostara is when I finally get to plant my garden in seeds or little baby seedlings. I’ve dreamed and planned for it during the cold months but I finally get my fingers in the dirt. It is my planting time.

Beltane begins my poetry time perhaps because of the moon’s annual lunar return into Taurus, my moon sign.

Midsummer is a time I am battling to keep my growing things alive. The never-ending sun and heat of Texas withers much of my best-laid plans and my garden struggles to live. I will call this my battle time.

Lughnasadh is often when I travel to see family. It helps to escape the relentless heat of Dallas and gets me away from the frustration of being nearly house-bound to the air-conditioning. It could be my vacation time.

At the Autumn Equinox, I might take stock of the projects I’ve worked on during the summer. What have I harvested/completed? What still needs to be done? What might need to change? This could be my evaluation time.

By Samhain, I grow poetic again.  There is something about the golden sun low in the sky and the turning leaves that moves me deeply.  I look forward to the coming cold and the family time that the late harvest/early winter season brings. I could call this family and gratitude time.

At Yule, I get to go into myself. Before I retired, it was the one time of year I had a lot of time off so I could go ‘into-the-deep’ of myself without stress. I hope to continue this, just because it is the cold and dark time which invites introspection. I will call it my ‘going into the deep’ time.

My personal Wheel of the Year looks like this:

Faelind Event

Faelind Description

 Sabbat Name

Going-into-the-Deep Time

Facing shadows & learning from the dark


My ‘Calling-for-the-Year’ Time

I ‘receive’ my ‘calling’ for the year ahead


Planting Time

Getting my fingers in the dirt


Poetry Time

Nature beckons and fills my soul to overflowing


Battle Time

Struggling to keep my garden alive


Vacation Time

Visit family, ancestral homeland, & escape Texas heat


Evaluation Time

What have I accomplished? Should I change course?


Family and Gratitude Time

Gratitude for bounty and gratitude for family


What does your Wheel of the Year look like?

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My Backyard is a River

Backyard is a River

Photo by Author of Author’s Backyard – Link back if used, please.

I sit on my deck, overlooking my backyard – a serene sea of green.

Breathing in the sights and sounds of my sanctuary I smell a river on the breeze,

A lingering essence of the recent rain.

I’m in a cocoon of green between the tall trees that surround me – safe in the soft green light.

Doves visit the bird feeder, softly whistling as they fly away, while

Squirrels scrabble up the pecan tree chasing each other and jump to the twin hackberries woven together.

Woven as I am – to this land, this house, this life.


Hanging from the trees so low they nearly touch the garden,

Voluptuous ponytails of ivy sway in the soft breeze,

While wind chimes softly announce the coming dusk.

My favorite liminal time – the hard labor of the day is done,

The evening’s diversions have yet to begin.

I sit and watch, draining the busy day away, remembering to see with new eyes

Noticing everything is verdant and fragrant – everything is so alive.


A wild bunny appears, munching in the tall grass, nearly invisible and so small and vulnerable.

Suddenly, a red-tailed hawk flies into the garden, magnificent striped feathers splayed out for my view!

Alighting on a short shepherd’s hook, the predator turns and just as suddenly flies straight toward me!

The bunny scampers to safety under the deck at my feet as the hawk swoops so close my heart nearly stops!

Thankfully, the hunter is empty-handed and chased from the yard by two very loud blue jays!

I realize my sanctuary is home but also a dangerous place for some.

Like the hidden dangers in every lived life – uncertainty and destruction are always near.


The evening wind picks up and spins the pinwheels in the garden,

Blowing the scent of the oak-leaved hydrangeas to my hungry nose.

Flowers explode in color, now that the harsh sun has fallen behind the trees.

Martins circle high overhead, joy-riding on the upsweep thermal winds.

Shadows lengthen at the edges, painting the bushes a deeper shade of green.

Faeries begin emerging, their clothes the color of May – as invisible and present as the bunny.

My heart sings with the wonder of it all, so full of gratitude.


Darker now, fireflies begin their lovely dance,

Soft lights in the dark at the edges, traveling stars in the gloaming.

The sky has turned a gentle shade of pink, illuminating the darkened trees as if they were on display.

My soul is bursting to be present in such beauty – I send love to all my family – of the heart and blood

Unbidden, my ancestors and dear ones send me overwhelming love in return.


All around me is love – my backyard is a river of love.

I see it in the pink clouds in the blue-gray sky,

Feel it in the dimming sunset,

Sense it in the underground river,

Hear it in the land singing in trees.


My tears flow freely.

Who am I to receive such riches?

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