WindRose
by Magda Palmer Cordingley, page 2
by Magda Palmer Cordingley, page 2
So trudged this family over farmland, Breathing air as thick as sand, Their hard and heavy journey lengthened By a sense of purpose strengthened; All about no movement showed, With matching realms above below; Bleak, sad oppression spreading wide, Soon listless horrors to provide; So drove this family ever forward, Pushed this family ever onward, Through troubled hours frontward pressed, Not stopping once for food or rest, Though coaxing voices begged them lie In shade of rocks to sleep and die; Doubt came not and nor regret, They'd carry out their mission set, To talk with Wind, lend empathy Then motivate and set her free. Then from the dreary heath around Stirred fragments of a singing sound, A rising, falling mystery That touched each heart with ecstasy; Notes traditionally heard in heaven, Perfected tones to glory Eden; Fingers plucking, long vibrating, More lovely than of currawongs mating; Drew them helpless without force Hypnotically towards it's source; As lovesick moths towards a fire, As poems sung to Orpheus's lyre, As fillies to the black tailed bay, As milkmaids to the Milky Way; Ethereal music ever swelling From the cave where Wind was dwelling; They gathered round the rocky entrance, Heard her story, knew her sentence. |  "I have a love- a Paper Bird-
Who sings and tells me songs unheard,
By my sisters in the rivers-
Rushing, rambling, akashic rivers,
Or my brothers in the forests-
Lofty, wavering, whispering forests,
Or my parents in the heavens-
Star-proud, glorious, longed-for heavens;
Food from songs my heart has fed,
From frivolous spring to ocean bed;
Seductive words, his dear voice resonant,
Tell of new and bygone residence,
Of people past who meet again,
To love again and part again;
Not like us- my bird and I,
One life eternal, cannot die;
Soul to soul we sweep and play,
Unfolding night, refolding day.
| But long before my paper love- My autumn painted paper love, Long before the moon was riding Round this world, her chariot gliding, Circling Earth who wasn't yet, Not even thought of to beget, The sun I played with as my ball, A yellow, bouncing, throwing ball; Made daisy chains of starry nights Threading them with planets bright, Wore vaporous clothes of idle cloud, Rode the ram of Aries proud, Chased the bull staunch Taurus tethered, Ate critical Virgo's wheat she treasured, Twice strayed Gemini's tricky pair, Gave Capricorn's goat thrice plaited hair! On all celestials feet I trod, Spoil the child and spare the rod! In The Giant Halls of Thunder, Where sober council annals number, Sat celestials not yet touched- Pisces, Libra, and Aquarius, Sagittarius, Scorpio and Cancer, At a table all together; For such a gathering of The Ancient Not a single seat was vacant; Immortals ceased accustomed play, That fearsome, luckless judgement day; Hushed their chatter, turned their face, Cast their eyes from my disgrace; Everything seemed so transparent, Why I'd frolicked was apparent; Reared in heaven's peacock cage, Unchecked child, result rampage; Court in silence, all must stand, Enter Leo, mace in hand. |
