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Druid Animal Oracle Sonnets

By Greybeard Dances (John Litzenberg) 2001
Artwork © Bill Worthington 1994

Prologue

If entire worlds are self-contained, their contents form their soul,
and each inhabitating force exerts its small control;
The pebbles and the stones inhale and breathe out living space,
and everything is sacred, for it creates its own face.
A blackbird on a strung live wire may send its current too,
through time and space and distance, truth beyond what lies in view.
A hind may trail its wisps of atoms, changing leaf and tree
from what they each appear to be, and thus compose a dream:
A dream where stags roam free, unhunted, equals in the land,
and with their proud and muscled walk approach and speak to man,
A dream where bears are given space to reign selected fiefs
and never asked to pay their taxes or provide relief,
A dream where foxes do not live as scavengers and thieves,
and practice in their ancient ways the truths of their beliefs,
A dream where boars may feel at ease to pave a narrow road,
and wander endless forests serving their unwritten code,
A dream where hawks may take of what they need and nothing more,
and roam the world as they see fit, to glide and then to soar
A dog that lingers in the alley cannot miss their cue,
or planets may not re-align and morning not come through;
An owl may oversleep and risk the closing of the show,
resulting in an ending to the constant ebb and flow:
A flow wherein a cat may sleep and dream of mice and men,
and in that vision realize a deeper state of Zen,
A flow that 'round the waiting crane brings true and honest fish,
and never tries, to anyone, to bring an empty dish,
A flow that sets free every frog and finds them better homes,
and never asks to collect on good will or unpaid loans,
A flow that gives the raven freedom and its fill of meat,
and whether black or white is still entitled to a seat.
If all that lives is interwoven, each thread plays a role,
and whether star or walk-on part, essential to the whole;
The smallest flower, and the largest whale are both inspired,
and everything is necessary, nothing un-required.

The Blackbird (Druid Dhubh)

Upon a slender branch of rowan tree,
between the worlds when daylight looses hold,
a dark and somber messenger we see,
to mark the gateway where the veil is old.
The haunting of his song a softened call,
remembrance of a truth that lies within;
It pierces through the twilight as it falls,
and cuts illusion's mists where they are thin.
A small and unobtrusive gentle singer,
it oft escapes the notice of the day -
Yet on its beak the glimpse of treasures linger,
And there beyond its wingspan is the way.
These signs are there for those who would take note,
Take heed the druid in this blackened coat..

The Hind (Eilid)

There in the shadows of the oak it pauses,
a timid graceful creature played with light,
The intimate of etherial causes,
And oft subtle companion of the night.
She beckons us to follow and go deeper,
and leave behind effects to seek the source,
And oft will take a guise to tempt the sleeper
to wake the other world, but not by force.
With graceful step she walks beyond the clearing,
And in the secret shadows bids us near;
For when the edge of what is real is nearing,
the patterns in the mist soon become clear.
This faery kine will lead where springs do flow,
And love for truth is found and helped to grow.

The Stag (Damh)

Atop a hill against the glow of sunset,
amidst the birch that reach towards the sky,
unflinching in the coming evening's onset,
an ancient creature stands and gives its cry.
A message from another time of glory,
the place where life is born and purified,
the private truth that lies behind all stories,
a valor that too often is denied.
He waits, but will not give us his allegiance,
For each must find their path and way alone;
While we may imitate his way in our dance,
'Tis his tined head that indicates the throne.
For those who would traverse a path with heart,
The stag will be there waiting when we start.

The Bear (Art)

A grumbling we hear deep within the wood,
and heavy tread that seems to shake the ground;
And every creature moves from where it stood,
As shadows start to undulate in sound.
He knows that we are here, and why him we seek:
the primal power that he holds as king,
And if we show no fear then he may then speak,
To point us to the root of each true thing:
Our past, the chain that links us to each other;
the future, dreams of sovereignty and might;
and here and now the fierce flame to discover,
lest lost, our passions burn out in the night.
A mighty beast, protector of the fire,
That warms us as it burns with our desire.

The Fox (Sionnach)

In early morning's light we trace his trail,
Along the icy river bank it files;
And catching just a glimpse of sunlit tail,
We watch him disappear back in the wild.
This untamed one, master of cunning art,
He shows us how to lay in watch and wait;
How to know when our actions may be smart,
And when to move is merely to tempt fate.
For silence is his way and too, is hiding,
A shadow in the trees until his time;
The essence of diplomacy and biding,
'Til circumstances become more sublime.
A flash between the trees is all you'll see,
Of he who would be wild and always free.




	Druid Animal Oracle Sonnets By Greybeard Dances (John Litzenberg) 2001 Artwork © Bill Worthington 1994 Prologue If entire worlds are self-contained, their contents form their soul, and each inhabitating force exerts its small control; The pebbles and the stones inhale and breathe out living space, and everything is sacred, for it creates its own face. A blackbird on a strung live wire may send its current too, through time and space and distance, truth beyond what lies in view. A hind may trail its wisps of atoms, changing leaf and tree from what they each appear to be, and thus compose a dream: A dream where stags roam free, unhunted, equals in the land, and with their proud and muscled walk approach and speak to man, A dream where bears are given space to reign selected fiefs and never asked to pay their taxes or provide relief, A dream where foxes do not live as scavengers and thieves, and practice in their ancient ways the truths of their beliefs, A dream where boars may feel at ease to pave a narrow road, and wander endless forests serving their unwritten code, A dream where hawks may take of what they need and nothing more, and roam the world as they see fit, to glide and then to soar A dog that lingers in the alley cannot miss their cue, or planets may not re-align and morning not come through; An owl may oversleep and risk the closing of the show, resulting in an ending to the constant ebb and flow: A flow wherein a cat may sleep and dream of mice and men, and in that vision realize a deeper state of Zen, A flow that 'round the waiting crane brings true and honest fish, and never tries, to anyone, to bring an empty dish, A flow that sets free every frog and finds them better homes, and never asks to collect on good will or unpaid loans, A flow that gives the raven freedom and its fill of meat, and whether black or white is still entitled to a seat. If all that lives is interwoven, each thread plays a role, and whether star or walk-on part, essential to the whole; The smallest flower, and the largest whale are both inspired, and everything is necessary, nothing un-required. The Blackbird (Druid Dhubh) Upon a slender branch of rowan tree, between the worlds when daylight looses hold, a dark and somber messenger we see, to mark the gateway where the veil is old. The haunting of his song a softened call, remembrance of a truth that lies within; It pierces through the twilight as it falls, and cuts illusion's mists where they are thin. A small and unobtrusive gentle singer, it oft escapes the notice of the day - Yet on its beak the glimpse of treasures linger, And there beyond its wingspan is the way. These signs are there for those who would take note, Take heed the druid in this blackened coat.. The Hind (Eilid) There in the shadows of the oak it pauses, a timid graceful creature played with light, The intimate of etherial causes, And oft subtle companion of the night. She beckons us to follow and go deeper, and leave behind effects to seek the source, And oft will take a guise to tempt the sleeper to wake the other world, but not by force. With graceful step she walks beyond the clearing, And in the secret shadows bids us near; For when the edge of what is real is nearing, the patterns in the mist soon become clear. This faery kine will lead where springs do flow, And love for truth is found and helped to grow. The Stag (Damh) Atop a hill against the glow of sunset, amidst the birch that reach towards the sky, unflinching in the coming evening's onset, an ancient creature stands and gives its cry. A message from another time of glory, the place where life is born and purified, the private truth that lies behind all stories, a valor that too often is denied. He waits, but will not give us his allegiance, For each must find their path and way alone; While we may imitate his way in our dance, 'Tis his tined head that indicates the throne. For those who would traverse a path with heart, The stag will be there waiting when we start. The Bear (Art) A grumbling we hear deep within the wood, and heavy tread that seems to shake the ground; And every creature moves from where it stood, As shadows start to undulate in sound. He knows that we are here, and why him we seek: the primal power that he holds as king, And if we show no fear then he may then speak, To point us to the root of each true thing: Our past, the chain that links us to each other; the future, dreams of sovereignty and might; and here and now the fierce flame to discover, lest lost, our passions burn out in the night. A mighty beast, protector of the fire, That warms us as it burns with our desire. The Fox (Sionnach) In early morning's light we trace his trail, Along the icy river bank it files; And catching just a glimpse of sunlit tail, We watch him disappear back in the wild. This untamed one, master of cunning art, He shows us how to lay in watch and wait; How to know when our actions may be smart, And when to move is merely to tempt fate. For silence is his way and too, is hiding, A shadow in the trees until his time; The essence of diplomacy and biding, 'Til circumstances become more sublime. A flash between the trees is all you'll see, Of he who would be wild and always free.