…Red, Magdalen, Maeve Rhuad

by Elizabeth Cunningham

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

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1 comment

Brittany June 19, 2020 - 5:41 pm

Goddess Bless you, and all gods bless you too for fleshing out the Priestess in all Her sacred Glory and Power in this time that is slowly remembering She who the world tried to forget for these many many years. I see you too, Priestess. I see your lovemaking with the Mystery.

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