Whispers of the Willow

Find My Heaven, Banish My Hell

Michelle — Fri, 25 May 2012 14:23:02 +0000

I’m ready to dance

I’m ready to sing

I’m ready to find heaven

And banish my hell

Break free of my chains

Break free of the game

Break free of the night

And breathe in the light

I’m going to restart my heart

I’m going to fly again

I’m going to find what makes me

And see that sunset sky

A way from that hell

A way from my chains

A way for me to finally see

And finally become me

I’m going to feel that fire

I’m going to feel desire

I’m going to chase the stars

And only stop for dreams

Tonight I’m going to flare

Tonight I’m going to shine

Tonight I’m going to live and fly

And live to never die

Tonight, I’m getting my makeup done, getting my hair curled, and putting on my grad dress. Because, tonight, is the night that all the grade twelves get into their limos with friends, take pictures, and go to a banquet held in their honor. Then we dance the night away in a haze of family and friends, and, maybe, a wee bit of drinking. (Most of us are legal, after all…) We get ourselves all prettied up for one night that we hope we never forget. Because this is part of the next step in our lives, so we are told.

I’ve been to a lot of grads. Fourteen, in fact. And each one, they tell us that this is the next step in our journey of life. This is the night where we celebrate the work we have done over the past twelve years, and can enjoy it. What they always forget, is that we have to go to school the next weeks, write our finals, and then we get kicked out into the real world…

Anyways, I don’t know how I feel about today. Excited? Happy? Sad? I don’t know. It’s nice to be primped and pampered, and have half a dozen cameras going off at once at you. It’ll make you feel special, and like all this work was worth it. But we’ll see. This poem is just for tonight. A little step onto the next journey, where I’ll forge my own path in life from now on…So wish me luck for a good night!

Michelle — Thu, 24 May 2012 13:44:52 +0000

The War, The Elf, The Great Ash Tree

Michelle — Fri, 18 May 2012 14:26:00 +0000

Far, far away

A long time ago

When trees used to whisper

When trees used to sing

And when more than just deer

Once settled here

For before humans came

Across the shining sea

Other folk once lived here

Gentle as a sparrow, clever as a cat

It’s where our children played

In this gentle glade

Where the trees became our homes

And the leaves became our dwelling

Where peace and birdsong

The stars and sunlight

Twined ‘round us, a sacred cape

A sanctuary, a great escape

Until the day that they came

Across the shifting sea

Humans in their monstrous boats

With hunger in their eyes

Greed within their hearts

Something new within these parts

Where greed and lust did not exist

With its fiery kiss

Instead tranquility and temperance true

Brushed us with its wings

But with these humans, something changed

The moment words between us were exchanged

For we were different, easily seen

Our pointed ears, our flowing tongue

Their rounded ears, their harsh, harsh tongue

We had our beliefs in different things

Held our honor different ways

And we lived far longer days

So our cultures crashed

When they came upon our shores

And yet they had the daring nerve

To claim the land, to kill its creatures

Even when our ancestors

Had lived much longer than theirs

And so one day, our differences

Collided in a single meeting

A human man, an eleven male

Achan the Young and Raeus the Light-foot

Both unsheathed their fiery tongue

And dark daring words they flung

Which turned into a bloody night

For both humans and the elven

As Achan and Raeus turned to brutal duel

And late in the night, with Achan’s slaying

For no man could beat an elf

Our fragile peace so revered, it tumbled off the shelf

And a full out war was pledged

Between our folk and theirs

With their battle drums and gnashing gums

And our silvery stunning swords

Our war began, our war was launched

That once began, no blood was stanched

The elven folk fought for our former life

The whispering tress, the gentle life

And man fought for their pride and glory

With bloody words and hungry vows

To take what they thought was theirs

As we fought them for our cares

And through each battle

And through the blood

Our gentle life was shattered

Our gentle life was splintered

As war became our way of life

As our days were filled with strife

And we carried on for days and months

With neither side a winner

Until a woman, soft as dew-light

Marched to our brave leader

“Sigurad, this war must end

Why yet do we pretend?

“Why yet do we pretend

To fight for our land, our home

When it is shattered, and rendered bare?

Our trees are dying, the sky is crying

The rivers run with blood

And blood has mixed in mud?”

Siguard, the leader replied, much wearied

“Cienwen, fair one, do not mock me with your eyes

For within them you render much despise

I cannot end this war, though it’s wrecked our home

We fight for honor, we fight for family

We fight for all this agony”

Cienwen left then, disagreeing

‘The fight is prideful,

And pride is fleeting

Like a summer bird in autumn

It soon will go away

And if it does, what left is there to say?

‘Our homes destroyed

The braches broken

The numbers of dead are yet unspoken

Our way of life, our way of thinking

Destroyed now by this bitter war

All as a way to settle the score’

She stared out at the burning land

The battlefield, men’s fatal cries

The way the world looked through a bloody haze

Their world fueled by a revolted daze

And how men of both their races

Died on each other’s swords’ embraces

She watched as Siguard lead his troops

Out onto the battlefield

Where trumpets blared and soldiers roared

A torch to heat up their discord

Where people maimed and people died

All for this war based on pride

Back to her temporary home she walked

The shouts of children around her mocked

The tragedy of this part of our history

And when her uncle found her there

In his voice there was despair

“Come now, quickly, your brother, Faihr

He calls to you now, his wound is deep

There’s little time, Cienwen, before he’ll pass”

She stared at Uncle, uncomprehending

Her brother, wounded, about to die?

Her brother, twin, and young elf of Saeding

Fate was cruel, and she felt it’s sting

She hurried to his bedside there

Where roses bloomed upon his sheets

Bloomed of blood, and want, and war

Where young elves died, the price of pride

As together, they said their final goodbyes

As his heart made its final cries

And when he passed, a sorrowful wail

From those who mourned the loss of him

A bright young warrior, a handsome sight

A peaceful elf, a luminous light

And now I’ve lost him, now he’s gone

And yet the war around us, presses on

A war on pride, a war on greed

A war sown by a bitter seed

That our fair people had to fight

That turned our light forest, into night

And now Cienwen lost what she held dear

And everything became suddenly achingly clear

Well, she was prideful! Let them see!

Let them meet her at the great ash tree!

At its great branches, at its slender truck

There she would stop this fight, this blanket night

And she would make sure no more war

Ever came to their fair shore

And in her fury, Cienwen went

And there she sang in grief and mourning

To the greatest old grey ash tree

She sang of despair, she sang of love

She sang of the future, of the stars above

She sang about the mourning dove

She sang until she was nothing but the song

Until the world had done her no wrong

Until the elves began to come

To listen to her woeful hum

To listen to her sing her grief

To listen as she turned to leaf

And as she sang, and as she hummed

The air around her thrummed

As she grew into the great ash tree

Tangled with the leaves and bark

Becoming one with the tree itself

Turning to tree from gentle elf

And Cienwen sang until she was no more

Until she was tree, and nothing else

For she knew how to settle the score

And the elf’s fair beauty, the elf’s fair light

Came from within the tree, within the bark

Her limbs and branches in gentle arc

And we wondered why, we wondered how

As we keened our grief, for her and her brother

Why would she do what she had done just now?

Was it out of grief, or out of madness?

To follow her brother? To escape this life?

To take leave of all this strife?

But yet we honored her, with her choice

Giving her transfiguration a voice

We told the others, we told Siguard

Told her uncle, told her aunt

And we mourned the loss of not one but both

Of Tyfwr Eiddew’s gentle growth

We mourned their beauty, their fierceness, their gifts

Fahir’s bravery, Cienwen’s peace

Both of their fervour for life and passion

And we laid Fahir near the great ash tree

Near where his sister had made her plea

And had turned herself within the solemn tree

And the war went on, the war continued

With more dying, more crying

More mourning our losses

Until the day the winds had shifted

Until the day the leaves grew still

And suddenly, the forest contained a thrill

A gentle singing, a gentle hum

Twirling leaves, and yet no breeze

A gentle foreboding, a saddened presence

Creaking trunks and no singing birds

Rippling roots, and shuddering trees

As the war began to freeze

For the elves and men alike

Grew frightened at the forest

Where the trees grew into traps

Branches held hostages

And the grass tangled limbs

And the men sung their hymns

The battle that raged, the flames that ravaged

All quickly were extinguished

For fear of the forest’s retaliation

For though none had died,

Both humans and elves

Were afraid for kin and themselves

For neither race had seen such a disturbance

In such a calm, old forest

But Siguard knew

And with the idea flew

To go to speak and see

Cienwen in the great ash tree

And once there, he knelt in the grass

On bended knee before the tree

‘Cienwen, tell me, are you there?

Cienwen, beauty,

Do you live within this tree?

Cienwen, will you answer me?’

And he waited there, for a long while

Waiting for a sign, a voice, a whisper

And when there was none, he rose

Only to hear Cienwen’s gentle tones

Rise above the tumbling breeze

Sending him back to his knees

‘Siguard, I greet you

Yes, indeed I live

And the power I have within these limbs

Ought to frighten thee

Speak now to the great ash tree

For I am it, and it is me’

The elven leader trembled, the elven leader shivered

For the power Cienwen wielded,

Was far beyond what was known

A great and terrible beauty

And yet she still resided within the tree

How it could be, Siguard could not see

‘Siguard you have come to me,

If you wish now, speak to me

Let down your burdens, lighten the load

Tell me know what leaves your shoulders bowed

And if you so wish, if you desire

I’ll tell you what is truly dire’

Our leader hesitated, stunned by Cienwen’s power

Stunned by her pure intuition

Stunned by this great ash tree

That Cienwen wielded, as part of her

So with fear and awe in part

His side of the tale he began to start

‘Three days ago, and again, three nights

The Gwyrdd forest began to thrum

The birds didn’t’ sing, the wolves didn’t howl

And yet the forest breathed

Stirring the breeze and whispering threats

Giving all of us the sweats

“And yet we continued battle,

Each trying to win with blood

Each trying to ignore the strangeness,

The shifting in the Gwyrdd

Where plants crawled, their creepers gently streaming,

The plant life green and teeming”

He told of a forest writhing and alive

Who took both races into its depths

But yet kept both elf and man alive

Even when they could not be found

A warning, a signal, something more?

What did this forest abhor?

Cienwen and the tree sighed

When Siguard finished his tale

And with a whisper on the breeze

“Siguard, did I not tell you?

Did I not say?

This war on pride, this war on greed

This war sown by a bitter seed,

“It must end, it must stop

Or the Gwyrdd will start to kill

And you may hack down every tree there forth –

But you will never succeed –

You must end this war, you must end this fight

Or you will feel the forest’s bite”

“Cienwen, why? Cienwen, when?

Why does the forest seek to kill?

For the need, or for the thrill?

Let me say, it is no thrill to kill?

Why make men suffer? Why make men die?

Why make poor people cry?”

The whisper was sharp

The sting like a whip

“Siguard, what must I say to make you see?
You couldn’t see it before, but see it now!

This war must stop!

The cost must drop!

“Your homes are destroyed

The braches broken

The numbers of dead are yet unspoken

Your way of life, your way of thinking

Destroyed now by this bitter war

All as a way to settle the score

“None are winning, all have lost!

All at too high of cost

I lost my brother, you’ve lost your sons

And now I have power, now I have skill

And when I say, the trees will kill

Not for the power, not for the thrill

“But to make you see, but to help you find

Look at the ground, saturated with blood

Places teeming with life, deserted

The burying ground full

And everybody grieving,

Wanting to be disbelieving”

Siguard started, feeling frightened

Of what Cienwen had implied

A forest that could attack?
A forest that could maim?
What would cause this madness?
What would cause this sadness?
.
This war they fought, for pride, for glory,

Was to keep their way of life, their home, their children

And make sure that no man would overstep their borders

So why would Gwyrdd fight against them?

Why would it threaten, why would it warn?

Why would it be so set to mourn?

Then it came to him, then he saw

What Cienwen had been saying all along

In mind’s eye, his youngest son

Embracing a sword’s cutting kiss

His eyes wide as he pulled it out in wonder

The embrace tearing him asunder

How Siguard had roared, and quickly slain

The man who had killed young Ieuen.

How he had kissed his son goodbye

And had heard his mother’s cry

The pain he had felt, the sting of sorrow

Had made him fight harder, on the morrow

And yet, and yet!

Multiplied by a hundred, a thousand

He began to feel the pain of what this war had caused

And with that, he let out a cry

“Cienwen, fair one, now I see

What you were trying to say to me

“We’ve lost many elves

We’ve lost many people

With our homes destroyed

Blood spilled

And lives in tatters

It’s not truly this war that matters

“No, we must rebuild, make a truce,

Find our peace again

And remember this day

For this war shall end

This war shall finish

Before we diminish

“It will be long, it will be hard

But we will save lives instead

Of cutting each other down

No more murder, no more death

We shall believe in peace and no more war

And we all shall restore”

A contented sigh flew through the breeze

And Siguard finally took his leave

Finally understanding, finally aware

What he had brought his people through

And Cienwen, in the great ash tree

Knew Siguard could finally see

So, in the days and weeks to come

The elves and the men had their talks

And it was decided, to end the war

As none had won, and all had lost

Together they would rebuild

Both races finally fulfilled

And none forgot the great ash tree

None forgot fair Cienwen

And every year, when the trees blossom

And the jewelled birds sing their song

We honor her with our verses

And each of us converses

For she is old, and she is wise

With her weeping branches,

She has seen as much as any elf

And anytime you need an answer

Cienwen can calm, Cienwen can help

Without scorn, and without a yelp

For her beauty remains within her limbs

And all who see her do remember

What she did for elves and man

And how she controls the forest

A tree that was once an elf

An elf that fought herself

A young maiden who wanted to change

Who wanted peace, who wanted love

Who took the chance, who took the sacrifice

To fix what she believed broken

To who stopped a war

To who we adore

Okay. This one is long. And when I say long, it’s 2 566 words. This is the longest poem I have ever written, and I’m not even sure why it is so long. But, it’s a new experience. So, congrats if you got to the bottom of it, because it’s not my usual material.

So I’ll keep it short and sweet on this one.

- I’m not sure why this particular topic popped into my head, nor why I felt inclined to write a story about it. Though I have my suspicions on a week of having the flu and watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

I also admit to really enjoying a good fantasy novel ever once in a while, so who knows where I picked this up.

Other than that, I’m heading out to Toronto tonight to play in my last Nationals ever before I am done my club volleyball career. It will be really hard, both emotionally and physically. After all, we’ll have to fight for every point, every set, every game. And then…it’ll be done. And my days as a volleyball player will be over.

And then, two days later, it’s grad. It’s moving really, really fast, and I can’t believe how fast this year has flown by.

But enough on that. Have a good long weekend (if you live in Canada), and if not, then enjoy, and thanks for reading all of this!

Michelle — Thu, 17 May 2012 15:00:20 +0000

A Cowboy, a Dirt Road, a Sweet Romance

Michelle — Fri, 04 May 2012 13:13:42 +0000

It’s a place in my heart

Where we were young and free

Where summer’s heat was part of me

And we had nowhere else to be

Where the world was far away

And our young love was here to stay

It’s where you and I

Once fell in love

Under that blue Alberta sky

In that old blue Ford that always died

Where our memories and the radio entwined

Where our fates began to twine

It’s a dirt road sunset

Sitting on the hood of that truck

A little bit of whiskey

Doing something risky

Watching the sun’s fire

Ignite it’s own desire

Its cut-off jeans, a white tank top

Your flannel shirt ‘round my shoulders

With the fiery fields all aglow

Singing along to the radio

A little bit of rum and coke

A little bit of campfire smoke

It’s a whisper in my ear

Smell of your leather and my perfume

Mixed together, a sweet concoction

Cuts my breath, just like a toxin

Where the catch that’s in your voice

Is a calling, not a choice

It’s the trees that hold the sky

Casting shadows on your face

This forbidden meeting

With my heart beating

Your name, tattooed with every pound

That beats too loud, an audible sound

It’s the crickets singing

The moon’s fair light

Slippery shadows across your face

A vivid picture, I can’t erase

A coyote’s shrieking, weeping cry

The night we thought would never die

It’s a slow, slow dance

A cowboy, a dirt road, a sweet romance

Swaying to the music of the night

Giving in to you without a fight

To your strong arms, your hungry eyes

That even the night couldn’t disguise

It’s that lingering kiss

Your hand in my hair, tangled there

It’s the goodnight, goodbye

The sound of your sweet sigh

It’s how I remember those days

Out where the horses graze

Where it’s a place in my heart

Where we were young and free

Where summer’s heat was part of me

And we had nowhere else to be

Where the world was far away

And our young love was here to stay

We all want to fall in love; we all want that fire, that ice, that beauty that results in the knowledge that somebody truly and deeply cares about you. It’s all part of human nature to want it.

I know I seem to write an abundance of love poems, which could be considered strange for somebody not in a relationship, or who has never even been in a serious one. But, we always want what we can’t have, right? And, since the last time I checked, I am human, of course I want to find love. So, perhaps, I write love poems because I write of something I’ve only read about, and turn my want into daydreams…that turn into the poems here. Is that so wrong? Personally, I think not. After all, it saves me from doing something with a stranger; because I have lived my daydreams through these poems. And in that, I might be weird, but who knows? Do most authors not live in their stories at one point or another? Why should it be so different for anyone who writes poetry?

Anyways, with the school year almost at an end, I have to start really focusing on my school work, so don’t expect me to post every week…at this point, it may be once every two weeks. And, I’m going to be way worse in the summer. Me posting every week when I would rather be drinking up the rather rare warm temperatures in mild Calgary is more of a draw for me than anything else…not to mention it’s more of an inspiration that staring blankly at Microsoft word, trying to get what I want to say out on paper (err…the screen). My poems are so much better when they are not forced.

And with that note, adieu.

Michelle — Thu, 03 May 2012 15:52:11 +0000

The Wallpaper Rose

Michelle — Fri, 20 Apr 2012 21:40:33 +0000

Inside the halls of the wallpaper rose

The ones who sit and wait

For a pre-determined fate

Where the men they meet

Will sweep them off their feet

Where they believe in fairy tales

And spin webs of make believe

Where they can hardly conceive

A real world, outside

And instead they hide

Within the walls of an invented castle

Princesses, in need of prince charming

To save them from a dragon’s harming

To take them away, atop a white horse

And take them away, with the sword and force

And yet, they cry when years go by

And no fair prince has come to aid

So they instead, in bitterness, they slowly fade

Into the walls of their castle sham

A wallpaper rose, without a man

So I apologize. I meant to post this, as per usual, after the quote went up, but I got sick (again) and just didn’t have the time to do it. Or write an extra ordinary poem about what truly holds us back from our dreams.

So instead, you get a quick poem about those people who do nothing to chase their dreams, expecting everything to fall into their lap…which is hardly any way to live your life.

And I’ll do better next week, I promise.

Michelle — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 18:10:08 +0000

Find Me A River, Find Me A Dream

Michelle — Fri, 06 Apr 2012 14:25:28 +0000

Find me a river

Find me a stream

Find me a place

Where I can dream

Under the willows

And under the sun

Find me a place

Where I can run

Past the garden

Past the creek

Find me a place

To be unique

Through the woods

And through the trees

Find me a place

To feel the breeze

Close to the meadow

Close to the field

Find me a place

That’s unrevealed

Next to the willow

And next to the sea

Find me a place

Where I can be me

Away from the town

Away from the farm

Find me a place

Where there’s no harm

Near the clouds

And near the stream

Find me a place

Where I can dream

Where I can lie

Beneath the sky

Find me a place

To never die

I think, sometimes, that we all wish that we could escape the present life we’re living. Get away from school, work. our families, our friends, our daily problems. Something inside us just shuts down, and that want to run, get away from it all, get to a place where we feel calm, and safe, and ourselves again.

I’m like that. Some days, when I’m up to my neck in school work, and volleyball, and family life and this and that, and oh my goodness, I have to get this done by that date, something inside me wants so badly to just get out of the city, away from it all. Go to the mountains, the farm, a summertime memory. Just get away from everything that is overwhelming me.

We live in a world that is so go-go-go, get this done, that done, keep on your toes, etc. We are always on our smartphones and the internet, always connected to the world. We sleep with our phones within a arm’s length, check Facebook and Twitter when we go to bed, then when we wake up, watch the news while we eat breakfast, get a text asking about a class in the morning. It’s a constant input of information, constant this and that. And we’re expected to take it all in, get good marks in school, work, play a sport, this that. It’s hectic. My own family is running seven days a week between my brother’s soccer and volleyball, my other brother’s karate, my volleyball, dad’s work, mom’s work. And it never stops.

It’s such a fast-paced planet that we hardly get a chance to breathe. I end up missing those summer days where I could just sit with a good book, and not worry about university applications, work, what I’m going to do, and somebody said this, so I should look it up…

No. I want simpler times. A place for me to breathe, to sit, to finally relax. To get healthy again. To not worry about a million different things, and a thousand different other things that are outside of my control.

But for now, I have to be content to sit in a windowless room while I slave away at math and bio and science, things that not only am I not good at, but things that I hate doing. For now, all I can do is push through, and hope that with the summer sun will come a time where I can sit and finally breathe.

Michelle — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 15:56:37 +0000

Whispers of the Willow

Find My Heaven, Banish My Hell

Previous Post

The War, The Elf, The Great Ash Tree

A Cowboy, a Dirt Road, a Sweet Romance

The Wallpaper Rose

Find Me A River, Find Me A Dream