Mini-Retreat July 19, 2009



The Path of the Poets  by Paul Matthews

The path of the poets has three stiles to cross

and an end uncertain;

at the first stile they blindfold you,

at the second stile you lose all sense of the way,

at the third style you enter a new country.

The guardians of the path provide

a dark woman on your left

to guard you at all time,

a bright woman on your right to guide you;

but she only takes your hand

after the first field is crossed.

The path of the poets is without words.

You must speak with bird-tongues.

After the second stile the woodpecker

begins to work inside you.

And when you reach the third stile

they’ll turn you round and around.

Let go let go and give yourself

into the hands of women.

The path of the poets is strewn with beechnuts

that suddenly roll from under you, and a magpie

screams at your from a hidden driveway.

Your name could make you blush.  If anyone comes

the women press you against the hedge and hide you.

On the path of the poets the rain sounds lonelier;

and in the bluebell wood beyond arriving

they will untie your eyes

and drop the poem in your lap at last.

Blessing Poem – One line written by each participant after time together in silence out in nature.  The words were pulled by each individual from their own writing inspired by natural elements.

May you delight in magic

May the ancient ones protect you

May you cherish the beauty,

strength, courage and destiny of the flower that is you.

May you recognize the intricate home in your soul

May you know that what you seek is on its way to you

as the web of life unraveling its richness before you