Mabh Savage's Blog: A Celtic Witch, page 28

World Poetry Day 2018

For World Poetry Day today, I was obsessed with petrichor, the smell after the rain. Here are some of the poetic doodles I did today…

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Rain hits soil hits nose

Knowing how it works doesn’t

Make it not magic.

Microbes multiply

Each rain drop

A mortar spreading them

Far and wide

Until they arrive

At the olfactory outpost

As the smell of

Spring

And the earth resting

After the storm.

And finally, a topical one I posted with the tag ‘crap haiku’:

Bee acupuncture

Is not the greatest idea

Just stop it now, please.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my poetic doodling! There was one more poem I wrote today, but it was a gift for my newest patron on Patreon. Please consider becoming a patron; every penny helps me create more poetry and writing, and all patrons receive exclusive rewards and unique gifts.

Until next time…

Image credit: Cymbidium by Brocken Inaglory, copyright 2011 via Wikipedia Commons.

Two Sides of the Wheel

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It struck me today that for her entire life, there has been more darkness than light for my four-month-old. Born in November, weeks after the autumnal equinox, she has never known a time where the day outshone the night.

My first born was almost the opposite; born in May, between the vernal equinox and summer solstice, he only knew the lighter days for his first four months.

In fact, they are six months and five days apart in birthdays (plus seven years!); almost exactly at opposite sides of the wheel. I wonder if this will be apparent in their temperament as they grow older?

Despite their differences, and their different experiences with light and dark, they both enjoyed a spring equinox trip to the park. Winter’s chill has subsided for the day, and a pale but determined Sol shines upon us.

Happy Spring Equinox to you little girl, your first day where the night bows and retreats.

Feels like Spring

Sprig morning from last year.

Sounds of Time

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Cabaret 30 2018

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SavageWolf performing live.

I was honoured to be a part of this year’s Cabaret 30 event, part of the Headingley Literature Festival. The event celebrates young artists, writers, musicians, poets, comedians and more, and is a satisfyingly diverse night of entertainment.

Read more about the event here.

Microtransactions

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I’ve been doing some work for a company that splits all its jobs into microtransactions. It’s a new way of working for me. You don’t focus on what went before, or what comes after; you just literally focus on the job that is in front of you, and have at it.

I’ve decided that this is how I need to live my life.

I’ve spent too long berating myself for failing. I didn’t get that finished. I started this but didn’t get time to complete it. I wrote 2000 words today, but I wish I’d written 5000. If only I hadn’t fallen asleep with exhaustion from being up all night with the baby, I could have finished that chapter. All of these statements are true, but they are also useless. What good is telling myself how crap I am? Especially when most of these ‘failures’ are somewhat outside my control?

Sadly, I’m a rather depressed person, and it’s unlikely I’m ever going to stop telling myself stupid things like this, unless I get a totally new perspective on how I work.

Microtransactions.

I’m going to start looking at everything I do as just tiny slices of whole jobs. If I only write 200 words because the baby wanted a mega feed and then the larger boy needed some help with his homework, well, that’s a tiny slice of that writing job that no longer needs to be done. Even if it’s 1%, that’s 1% complete. Brava! Also, I fed the baby and kept her alive and happy, and nurtured a small boy. Yay me! Tiny actions that contribute towards a larger whole and larger goal.

Everything I do will, from this point forward, be seen as an achievement, not a failure, as it will be tiny steps working their way towards something. Because I’ll be focusing on each tiny step, rather than the hazy, distant destination, hopefully, I can enjoy the journey a little more as well.

Artwork by Nathan, kind of how my mind feels right now.

 

Soteira

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Mirror to my soul

Your twin lights guide me

When I can’t decide

Which path is right

Cosmic world soul

Heart of the universe

Voice of the Heavens

The Earth and the Sea.

The thought and the word

The void and the atom

The step and the leap

The tears and the joy.

The spark of the seeker inside my soul;

The spark of the seeker inside.

The web of the stars

Tiny lights in the dark

Pulling me onwards

Giving me hope

Compassion and kindness

Courage and strength

Mind, heart and mouth

Reaching in; reaching out

Touching lives, touching mine

Guiding hearts, guiding minds

You are the hand that reaches

You are the voice that teaches

The spark of the seeker inside my soul;

The spark of the seeker inside.

 

For Hekate as the Cosmic World Soul, February 2018 – a CoH devotional project- www.hekatecovenant.com . Image credit: Hecate’s Wheel by Nyo via Wikimedia Commons, copyright 2007.

This piece is to be set to music, and will be posted here once complete.

Re-sharing as I need to finish this.

via The Chapel

In Her Little House

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In her little house with the sun streaming

Fire not water through the gauze window

Eyes squint with smiling and sunshine alike;

Beautiful brain from bright face is beaming.

Walls are angles; calculus; algebra;

Floor to roof trajectory formula

Figuring out the right arm curvature

From mouth to ceiling is only so far.

Brow furrowed, hand borrowed; just pull this close

She needs help and she needs letting alone

Working it all out, nudges here and there

Ladybird, book, bee, bird; fingers, toes, nose.

In her little house with the sun glowing

In eyes that dart from flowers to faces

Baby is still, but still going places

Learning, laughing, being, knowing; growing.

Snowflakes

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I’m just in awe at how perfect these snowflakes are.

Lick the Sky

Resharing for Imbolc. Brigid’s blessings!

Sounds of Time

It’s Imbolc

And I want to

Lick the sky

Those fiery stripes

Must surely be

As sweet as sunrise ice.

The blackbird nods

Tail bouncing on the wall

Of a run down council house.

The Honda Prelude that

Cuts me up

Is a square assed snap chat

Of the past

And the wind turbine

Crazy in the cruel bite

Of winter’s last stand

Is a bright spark of

Future hope.

It’s Imbolc

And I want to

Grasp the earth

Bulbs tickling my cheek

With first new shoots

Reach out with great

Goddess hands

Surround the sky

And lick.

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