Earth's Heart

-
A conversation with the heart of the World…

The tears you weep,
           I keep
              within
                 me,
   they wake me at night
when it feels
  as if the Light
       has left
           us

for your heart
   is my heart,
       I feel your pain
          as the soft grey rain
crying out for the caged ones,
   the starving ones,
            the unseen tragedies,
                       the cruelties kept hidden
where polite people cannot know them,
   but still they rise
         unbidden
as wailing ghosts in their nightmares

       their minds have blocked you out
     but their hearts are tied to you
  and must open to you

as a spear stabbed cruelly
  left me gasping,
     fainting
on the edge of heartbreak,
  your cries
my heart,
   your heart,
       trail them in their sleep
screaming them awake

 they try to drown them
             in a bottle of vodka,
or a line off a mirror
        that stares emptily back up at them,
or buy them off with false gold
 that next to your sunshine has barely a shimmer,
   not even a glimmer
        of your beauty
              after the rain

they reason with logic
and big words to explain the injustice,
divorced from emotion,
    because it would hurt too much to feel
        the horror of your Real

if they thought before they ate
  and saw the misery on their plate
     they would choke in guilt and shame
and so they choose not to know
   what “civilisation” daren’t show,
they look away
   and shadows
cloud over the day

the killing for fun
because they’re taught we’re not one,
      Earth which spells heart,
  how can they even think we’re ever apart?
  oh!
      my heart,
          your heart
 beats within mine
      in time
 with the song of our dream

    as a stream
will eventually meander down to the sea
  oh heart,
    my heart,
 their hearts
will still open
    and
weep with me
  that the beasts
the innocent
    should be wild and free

Christine Jordaan, 2013
© 2017


    
 










Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Call to Action: PROJECT TO END GREAT APE SLAVERY - PEGAS

-
Image
Photo credit:  Karl Ammann Beautiful people…. I was honoured recently to be contacted by Karl Ammann ( www.karlammann.com ), a wildlife warrior of note (named Hero of the Environment, and SAB Environmental Journalist of the Year).  He asked me to help raise awareness of the plight of the #slaveapes  as he had seen the world roaring out for our beloved lions.   Together with Dr Dan Stiles (danstiles.org), Nick Cockayne ( http://www.apeactionafrica.org/index ) and a specialised team they have created PEGAS. And so world - I am afraid I need some more tears from you, I’m so sorry.    After the lion march, I seriously wondered if I had any more tears left in my heart or had I cried them all out…  I worried that I had become one of those hard people you see that just don’t cry anymore…  but I’m afraid my heart has been broken again…  actually as I sit here now I wonder at what point one’s heart says “eno...
Read more

From the Firelight

-
Image
Briefly I believe in something beautiful, kind, good, pure in the World – call it Source/Light/Love.  And obviously the dark is undeniable – it pulls the puppets' strings from the shadows… feeding on our misery. When I name gods and goddesses below, I am speaking about the archetypes I feel running through the fabric of reality… the olde magical Celtic ways are beautiful to me.  There is a basic rule – Harm None.  And so I write for the animals, for the Earth, and for my Self to be healed. If we all just took responsibility for transmuting our own Shadows, the world would be immediately lighter, brighter, and kinder. All my writing :   © 2017 The Priestess Speaks: When the primal Flood receded          I was there                   Soil bare as Wind loved Me  He carved Me into Mountains of Stone   the Ice ca...
Read more

Captured

-
Image
© 2017 As the Light grew, the Dark became jealous, prowling at the edge of her Psyche, whispering, tempting, seducing with pretty promises and luring lies Feeding off the Shadow, hidden and hurting, twisting and tricking, until her Soul, distraught, torn apart by anguish, sought refuge in the Void, giving a last regretful look before turning away and stepping off the Edge into the Abyss There in the icy Wasteland Souls hover, frozen inside, they know that they died a long, long time ago Whilst outside, the human predators stalk and trap, and Gentle is shackled in Bluebeard’s castle, blindfolded, bound, lost in the mists, cold steel at her wrists, drifting in and out of the Real, keeping the panic at bay and the ghosts away, by withdrawing and refusing to feel Until one day all is flames and searing pain as her Soul awakens again, Realisation slams her head into the wall, and the Long Road back begins through the Underworl...
Read more