By Elder Mountain Dreaming – Phoenix Poetry
We the golden flying souls, guardians returned
to awaken the great Night Mother called Fire.
We were offered water to hold one circle and
one veil this lifetime.
If you should come near us, we only appear as
shining light, because our dream bodies
are made of storming clouds with magical might.
Witches and wizards have often invoked us,
thinking they have the powers to control –
we answer their calls with chaos, revealing
whose sou debt was paid and whose was not.
Natural phenomena is no match for the
primal Dreamers of fog and cloud. Do you
remember the Saint’s Fire? Well, we saw the
blood of Pagans on their hands, just as we saw
Pagans with the blood of Shamans on theirs.
Great circles always return and give humanity
its signs which are now completed. We ring our
Abhorson Bells, primal chimes which both stir
the beautiful, along with the living dead.
It is time to begin – as we pour forth a handful
of our soul’s salty water into your circles of
magic & mirror – because Eternity is now
standing right here.
Kaljo Põllu (1934-2010) Estonian Artist,
Kuu vikerkaar. Sarjast Kalivägi. 1983. Metsotinto.