JOURNEY
©
Jillbe Badb
(Reprinted with permission)
Wandering singer of the forest am I
In my land where three
mountain ranges meet
Many have called me stranger
But at length called me a poet
I have been a recluse and
existed within a redwood
I have traveled and lived
in a metal cocoon
I have dwelt under the winter stars
For a year and a day, I wore
nothing but rags
I have been a glowing coal
I have been a hidden mushroom
I have been the scent of heather
I have been a goblet of water
For 30 years in the
womb of unawareness
In state of blindness
But at length was a poet
I have seen a hawk carry off a snake
I have stood within ancient castle walls
I have dreamed others’ futures and pasts
I have built shelter in the desert
I am a ten-pointed star
I am a beginning and an end
I shall be until the end of the Summerlands
And it is not known whether I am
song or magick
Learned Druid,
Can I memorize your words?
Or sing to you of trees?
