This topic contains 2 replies, has 2 voices, and was last updated by Beric .
2019-01-15 at 1:56 pm #3110
2019-06-02 at 3:04 am #5401BericForum Editor@beric_debenkahRank: Honorary Scribe
Wax & Wane by Alana Henderson :
I could blame our partin’, For the fact that I’m not startin’, All my mornings at the time they ought to start, And I could summon up a sisterhood, Cry lead me out of widowhood, But that is melodrama on my part.
I could blame my grieving, On the fact that I’ve be leaving, Us behind, the ones we were when this began, But I have rose-tinted ruby glasses, And I’ve conjured up a new me, Who bent freely to her newly moulded man.
But we bent and we broke and I meant what I spoke, And the blame game does not produce a winner, We went as we could go, we had to go that far to know, That we had nowhere left to aim, And no one left to blame, But the moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide.
And I could blame my parents, For my vices so inherent, That I can not shake them as I may try, But how much have I inherited ? Or picked up since I was a kid, That nature versus nurture paradigm.
I could blame wrong turns that I take, On decisions that my head makes, The trace each error right back to my heart, And is it broken ’cause you toyed with it, Or was it formed with a little split, That grows each year further and further apart.
But we love and we lose and we lash-out and we bruise, And the name of the game’s just the living, We go as we can go, we’ve got to go that far to know, That we have everything to gain, By knowing we can blame. The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide.
And so I look to Karma, And if I try not to harm another, I will not be harmed by anything, If I salute the magpie knock on wood, Will I be doing anything good ? Am I strung up or do I pull the string ?
Will the fact I cling so tightly, To my dreams come back to bite me, And am I trying to make a science of an art ? And will the very fate I wish to woo, Be the one that I undue, By thinking I can steer this crazy cart.
But I will live and I will learn, And I will light and I will burn, Until the flames simmers down to a spark, I will go as far as I can go, I’ve to go that far to know that I have everything to gain, By knowing that I can not train, The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide.
These are lyrics, and Alana is an exceptional Irish celloist. That I had the privilege to watch.
2019-05-29 at 7:01 am #5095BericForum Editor@beric_debenkahRank: Honorary Scribe
‘Dymunaf yn dda I Cidwn’.
The earliest storytellers were the magi, seers, bards & shaman, they were, it would seem, old as time itself, and as terrifying to gaze upon as the mysteries with which they wrestled with, they wrestled with unexplained mysteries and transformed them into myths which coded the world and helped the community to live through more darkness, with their eyes open, and with hearts set alight.
Side-by-side with human evolution was the development of language, with humanity’s migration the Bardic Tradition became almost global, and all such equivalents, what are essential to the Oral Tradition, peppered with folk-wit and wisdom shared by word of mouth for millennia. Whatever story, song, poem, riddle or anecdote passed from one person to another, something we all do on a daily basis.
The Bard’s Traditional Year :
Spring of the Quickening (February – April)
Summer Shinning (May – July)
Autumn Gathering (August – October)
Winter Dreaming (November – January)
Reference used : Kevan Manwaring (Tallyessin).