lying naked on a warm February night
outside under a full moon, ripe for conception:
then twenty year’s labor to bring your story forth
you are still with me, and you have left me behind
as I’ve left you: another story, a new form
you are my best friend; you are busy with the world
we traveled far together in and out of time
in this world and the other, history and dream
now other people follow our path—to themselves
I imagined your memories, now they are mine
do you remember me singing loud to the sea
plotting murder: the terrible one and his son?
what is my life now? why does it go on and on?
when will the bell ring? when will they let me outside
this self I no longer want to be without you?
O my soul’s mirror, I still can’t see my beauty
but I can see yours, Little Bright One, Bride’s Flame
I know all your names: Red, Magdalen, Maeve Rhuad.
In honor of Maeve’s Feast Day July 22, 2012