I have been a furnace blazing,
I have been a green, thundering heart,
I have been a mountain pool,
A lochan of the dead, a poison dart,
I have been the moon rising,
I have been blood-rush and thorn,
Antler and iron,
I have been green and blue and every colour of the moor,
I have been the eyes within your heart,
A forest watching, a dream worth keeping.
Now I am the keen of wind,
a shadow that has passed.
The sky is the colour of seal hide, mud clings perpetually to my boots, and I crave a whisper of inspiration.
I scroll the words of others but my spirit’s feathers grow damp and heavy.
I fear that I’ll never be able to translate the feelings inscribed upon my soul. Or that in truth, there’s nothing worth transcribing, and if you were to meet me you’d discover that truth, too - that I contain as much depth as a November puddle.
Then I stumbled across an old poem I’d written five years ago. A poem that sparks my blood and reminds me that I can write beautifully from the heart…just not always at 10.30 am on a dreary Thursday (the time I’m writing this letter).
It reminds me that everyone holds hidden depths in their unexpressed feelings, which are no less true for being unspoken.
Yet I’d archived this poem to a dusty recess with a wince. Not true, not true…how can I be all these things?
I would enter that young woman’s dreams if I could. I would shield her from bruising judgements and cast spells of silence over the inner critic who clipped her wings.
I would be the eyes within her heart, gentle and watchful. I would glower over self-doubt, the shadow’s get, until it turned away.
But I can only stand guard today, spells and sword at the ready.
Here is my invitation to you to do the same.
When you write like that, you ARE casting a spell over each and every reader. It seems and feels like you are writing a letter just to me. Believe me, I normally would never have written or responded to anything like this in my previous self but when I read your letters I'm compelled and almost forced to respond. Never in my wildest dreams or thoughts would I ever have thought that I would enjoy the writings of you and a few others that I've discovered on IG. LOL, I used to look forward to Fridays being the end of the work week but now it's due to receiving your letters. Thank You for opening my eyes to the non-physical world and beings.
I absolutely adore the imagery of standing in front of my creative selves, ready to defend and protect them. Thank you for the encouragement, and the inspiration. We are not our inner critics... we are many things, like you write about in that beautiful poem. Love it. Thank you so much.