Tuesday, November 28, 2006

First Fire

Many new friends are arriving at the Gypsy Camp,
and all are invited to stand in the flickering shadows
to sing or tell a ballad or story or prayer --
these give more warmth than the glowing embers.

I will start things off -- not a Bard for naught --
and will tell you something of my home and haven
at Sakin'el. Sung in two voices


Sakin’el Hush

And the Bard sang by the fire bright …

“If you will do this in trust and love
then Sakin'el will live anew,
and at each splendid sunset kiss
you will hear the faint 'Silent Breeze'
of ever profound inner peace.”

“but what will I hear,” asked the maiden faire,
with teasing eyes and coquettish aire?

“draw close to the flowers with petaled dew
and look at the reflection there,
while gentle bees caress the wind
and hum of sweet nectared dreams
soon lost to age and vanity.”

“how loud is the sound,” mused the withered crone,
with vacant eyes who slept alone?

“the trees will thunder and the stones will shout
if you stand as one ‘pon the path;
while holding hands can mute the din
and change the music to quiet song
best heard from the lips of a friend.”

“do they tell stories,” requested the youth
with wand’ring spirit searching truth?

“brave soldiers on horseback beat steady drums
and dragons breathe through piercing flutes
and Viking ships sound a longing horn,
calling to arms companions true
to follow a quest most daring.”

“are they ever hushed,” sighed the tonsured priest
whose fervant prayers never ceased.

“if one can be silent they sing the same
and echo spirit’s harmony
to a song of Light and knowing,
where heart strings are plucked
b y an angelic choir in love.”

“can I sing along,” laughed the little elf
with innocent mirth beside himself.

“if you sing ‘belong’ and soon join right in
and dance a lick and whistle now,
then birds chirp in and clouds applaud
the music of humanity,
gifted by the morning dawn.”

“can I then just sit and watch,” cried the child
with remembered touch beguiled.”

“to live life is to surly embrace life
and conduct an orchestra grand,
where you will coax your soul to sing
and blend with whispers of Tegsh
as she accomp’nies even me.”


At 3:27 PM, Blogger Gail Kavanagh said...

Sakin'ek sounds like the most perfect tober, faucon. May your tribe ever be at peace.

At 8:02 PM, Blogger Lois said...

I sang along to your song Faucon
not knowing the tune but loving the words....
Did I tell you our (My Choir) closes on the 7th Dec 2006 ..Our choirmistress Maryanne a beautiful woman feels you she must move on
Sell her small apartment and buy a house with a garden ..she wants to get back to feeling the earth
Teaching music /singing and playing the chello have lost their meaning she tells us and so she must find a new path.
For 12 months she nursed her young 41 yr old Brother John who died of a brain tumor in May of this year and she has not had the same enthusiasm for teaching.
We (23) of us are trying to encourage her to keep the choir (Heartsong) going perhaps in a church hall or similar, when/where she buys her house...
We feel we need her and we know she feels the same about us ,of this we are sure.
She is looking to live in a multicultural community where there is a sense of belonging ,sharing,caring which she cannot find in her role as a teacher in the education dept.
I am so sad at the prospect of not singing as this has been wonderful for me to be part of Heartsong ...We sing because we love it and the criteria is just that...no matter if you can't read music that's not important .We sing in 4 part harmony and its just beautiful.
We give free concerts for our friends and families /Nursing homes retirement villages etc etc ....
So Faucon I will keep singing songs for as long as you write them....Lois
(Muse of the Sea) 30.11.06


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