Note: The following poem was written by Solasdana, and has been moved to this thread by the moderator in accordance with line-limit rules. :raven:
"Hail-Splitter: The Ph.D. in Cailleach Studies"
::dedicated to those who dare the -real- walk,
and to those who avoid it::
There comes a time,
often in the dead of night,
when the real elders will appear.
Some are still and quiet,
others will make a choice
to draw near.
One is a spirit, a goddess,
known by many names,
and is particularly fierce
in her evening countenance.
If she speaks to you in dream,
or within your own heart,
in the end,
there is no denying it.
Even the brave shiver
when in her midst,
Bringer of Hail,
Queen of Storms,
Crone of the Ever-Widening Mists.
The grandfathers say:
“She’ll pummel you
with the hard-truth of your fear,
and throw lightning into your soul
from her waving fists.”
Her knobby fingers pull back a door
revealing the real work
of the real terrain.
When she opens it up,
the silly games are over;
there’s no going back,
no hope of refrain.
she slides the blade
of the old tradition
across all you were working on.
The frivolous false-self evaporates.
You finally comprehend transformation.
She laughs at all this nonsense today:
Purple robes, starry sequins,
unchecked Harry Potter narcissism.
She splits the hail,
and barks her instructions,
on my mountain.
Then you’ll understand Druidism!”
note: the Cailleach in primal Irish and Scottish
beliefs is experienced as an initiatory force in the
living wisdom-traditions today. Not a concept, or mere
"idea," whole lineages and traditions exist in Ireland
around working with the Cailleach energies. She is
purveyor of wisdom, an active protector of the land
and sacred sites, like the Hill of Tara, and other
places on the earth....She is watching.
“You can't study the darkness by flooding it with light.” ~ Edward Abbey