Category Archives: Fav Poetry

Death – Soysal’s Teacher

you would know the secret of death…
but how shall you find it…

unless you seek it in the heart of life?
the owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light…

if you would indeed behold the spirit of death..
open you heart wide unto the body of life..
for life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one…

in the depth of your hopes and desires,
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond
and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow
your heart dreams of spring…

trust the dreams
for in them is hidden the gate to eternity…
your fear of death is but the trembling of the
shepherd when he stands before the king of whose hand it is to be laid upon him in honor…
is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling
that he shall wear the mark of the king
yet is he more mindful of his trembling?

for what is it to die but to stand
naked in the wind and to melt in the sun?

and what is it to cease breathing but to free
breath from it’s restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and see god unencumbered?
only when you drink from the river of silence shall
you indeed sing…

and when you have reached the mountain top,
then you shall begin to climb…
and when the earth shall claim your limbs
then shall you truly dance…


Dream Within a Dream – Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?


Alone – Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.



The truth will wake you in the night and cause a peaceful slumber
The truth will set men free and bind them accordingly
The truth will make amends for unjust actions
The truth will bring brother to brother
The truth will hurt and break and heal and wake
The truth will open the gates to the land of Sidhe
The truth will hold up the walls of sovereignty
The truth will make the stones cry out
The truth will balance the center


A part of all things

I am raven on the field
I am drop of rain cascading down the water fall
I am deer stepping softly through a wooded glade
I am moss growing on the ancient tree
I am ember blazing in the sacred fire
I am rock hiding beneath the soil
I am beam of light cutting through the still of night
I am wind rustling reeds of the bog
I am sound echoing from the dolmen
I am and was and will be



We are people of words,
people of careful action,
living through our conscience,
steeling our wills with words.

To know,
To dare,
To keep silent.

We hold that as our creed.
Speaking twice over double tongue,
beneath our breath,
as our sacred quest.

Our utmost wish,
our fondest desire,
is to decipher
that which cannot be spoken.

Our character is often stoic.
Our nature is that of a babe;
four score decades old.
Our vision: transparent.

Our spirit wanders
about the world until
we perceive
the nature of divine.

Our judgment: weighted with mercy.
Our wrath is rightly earned.
Our vengeance: evenhanded
though not always evident.

Our sword is seldom brought to bear
on our fellow man
unless such a grievous act
compels us to take action.

When we must act,
the flash of steel
and glint of fang
find us as the beast.

Our love: bottomless
Without end
Almost infinite understanding

Such is the nature
of one who seeks
to understand the divine


Now I see

From out of darkest fire
And deepest misery
We come forth
And renew our vows
To live life
From the heart

From the cold abandon
And the silent halls
We come forth
And renew our vows
To refill our spirit
From the wells of wisdom

From the solitude
And the empty arms
We come forth
And renew our vows
To find hope
From the promise of change

Stepping softly in the darkness
On a path of cobbled stone
There arises a new light
To illuminate our way
And promise of companionship

Perhaps it was always there
And we were blind
With night-bound eyes
To see the glow
Of the gentle white moon

Now I see
With clarity
Echoing words of wisdom
And peace enough for all
Perfection came