There must be time for the Old Gods

There are times when life seems to be nothing but a mad, unconsidered rush to get ‘things’ done. This new poem is a reflection of a longing for stillness. It is a longing for the space and time to go deeply within the forests of soul and of nature, there to find the essence of self that I know has not been lost.

Will you take a moment to sit quietly with me?

If you are quiet

Still, there must be time (and time) –

For the Old Gods:

Gnarled, gentle fingers

Roots dipped in molten core –

Wait – bluebalancing summer skies

On a rainbow of green on green.

If you are quiet,

You may enter in beneath the boughs

On moss slippered praying feet,

There, They will meet with you,

Barked-feathered-bright-eyed,

Quivering with Life.

If you are quiet,

They will let you hear

A wild of wind,

Winding itself around the world,

Whispering the stories of stories

Of things you always knew.

And if you dare,

And if you will,

You may find the old self,

Not felled as you once thought,

But firm-rooted,

Branching down,

Long and strong

To pull the sap

From the centre

Of the stone

Of your heart.

Home now, home now,

In the roaring silence of

Your Self,

Be brave enough to

Be still.

                        Ruth Everson