. Poetry from The Great In-Between: The Calling

Thursday, September 19, 2024

The Calling

 Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)


Run to me

My only love


Through all of your life's wild woods


To reach my secret mountain glade

To where I'm stood


Waiting

Like a lone ash tree


Come to your destiny 

As I stand chanting 

In my circle of salt


Sending out spells in poetry

To enchant and call to you

Each night


Even when you prayed


A part of me still waits in those dark woods 


In the deep unconscious recesses of your mind


Just hidden in the green ivy and shade


Where your deepest desires are confined and waylaid 


Will you surrender and just come to me


For I will build inside you a new spiritual temple

With tender soft hands


A red beating altar

As its centrepiece


Filled with love's marching band's 

To absolve all your fears


So search for me

In those unconscious recesses of your mind


Just hidden in the green ivy and shade


Where your deepest desires are confined and waylaid 


To come to a new church 

To be baptised and ordained


Walk through all that ceremonial smoke that chokes


Past the enticing pit fires

Surrounded and lit by temptations


Many crowds of enticing chanting liars


When you hear 

Me calling


"De prisa, queda poco tiempo"


(Hurry, there is little time left)


"De prisa, queda poco tiempo"


To finally cross the wet sands and swim through the dark waters


To defeat 

Death


To reach my mountain woodland glade

Inside


Where we can finally dance freely in glee 


Amongst the deadly nightshade


And face the rise of the Full Winter Moon


Totally unafraid

Like Adam and Eve


As the rest of the world

Is falling


Manipulated by those indentured politicians and news presenters 


Who like to gaslight and deceive


Wearing expensive suites and dolman white sleeves


(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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