Poetry

By Jhenah Telyndru

A sharing of some of my Avalonian-themed poetry.

The Loom|Emergence|Corona Borealis|To Part the Mists|Chalice Hill

The Loom

Spin Spun Spinning

Weave Woven Weaving

Grief

Like long-ago mists

Cling to my cloak, my hair,

My being …

My leaving

The swans cannot call me back

The moon does not light my path

The silent darkness

And the mists

Engulf me

Swallowing my tears and my

Grief

Spin Spun Spinning

Weave Woven Weaving

Pain

Like the breaking of a harp string

And the cracking of a sound box

Stings me

And the tears come again

Warping Wood

Feeding Flame

I can no longer taste the Fruit

I can longer drink of the Spring

I wither in the darkness

Alone save for my grief and my

Pain

Spin Spun Spinning

Weave Woven Weaving

Love

Like a stone-capped hill

In a water-ringed valley

Calls to me

To no longer hide my face

To no longer shut Her out

I see deep healing in the bottom of the Well

I see Her face in the mirror of my soul

I let the long-drained cup

Refill the cold emptiness within

My face is wet

With the overflow of Her

Love

Spin Spun Spinning

Weave Woven Weaving

At last the tapestry can be set aside

That I may begin another…

© Jhenah Telyndru 1993

Emergence

The last whisper of owl's wings

Feather dawn's tendrils

Over the softening horizon,

Curling like mists

Over the conquered darkness

Of the waning night.

Slumbering buds awaken --

Aroused into fragrant bloom

By morning's sweet kiss.

How like the spring, my soul!

Seeking the light

And, touching it,

Opening into full beauty.

© Jhenah Telyndru 2002

Corona Borealis

Night

And a circlet of stars

For Her brow

Deft fingers work

Serpentine threads

Spinning all possibilities

Into existence

Time

And the Glass Tower's

Fourfold fortress

Weave us into Your tapestry,

Holy Arianrhod,

Shape us on Your

Wheel of Rebirth

To Part the Mists...

The path to the top of the Tor

Is also the spiraled way to the woman within

A journey of growth, empowerment,

And self understanding

Voyage to the Source… the Center… the Goddess....

She whose Name can only be found in the silence of the soul

Delve into your darkness... enter your pain

Conquer your fears....

Call the Barge to take you

To the Holy Island of Healing which resides within...

And emerge renewed

The Mysteries of Avalon are alive

Her Apples are red and sweet...

Do you dare take a bite?

Become the Woman you were born to be....

Remember...

Chalice Hill

Ripe as reddened fruit

The Mother's swollen belly

Manifests rebirth

Blest and pregnant mound

Fecund with deep Mystery --

Once and Future Grail

All graphic and written content on the Ynys Afallon website are © 2003, 2005 Jhenah Telyndru except where otherwise noted. None of the material found on these pages may be copied or duplicated except with express written consent from the author.