Poem: For Nathalan (January 8)

I’m a member of AODA, a Druid revival society headed up by John Michael Greer, an author who’s taught me much. one of the things I’m supposed to be doing as part of my apprenticeship program is cultivating certain talents that have to do with the spirit of the Druidic Revival, from the late 1600s up to the present day.  This is always something difficult for me.  While I love Celtic artwork, and I’ve been known to draw knot work patterns at times, I don’t really have a deep relationship with the Celtic gods; and while I know my Arthur myths, I don’t know the traditions all that deeply. So,I’ve dug out a book of Celtic Saints I’ve had since my Seminary days, and I’m going to try to use it as the basis of some devotional work here, and poetry. We’ll see what comes of it.

Today is Saint Nathalan’s day.  It’s a name kind of close to the name of the Ogham character NGetal, which has to do with November, and healing, and broom (a kind of reed), green gass color, and geese.  I don’t know if he has anything to do with the Ogham character, but he was born in Scotland near the start of the seventh century, and devoted his life to God by keeping a garden.  Why his feast is thus in January, I don’t know.

Green growing things surround you and your cell,
Humble Nathalan, gardener divine:
By thy hand, Scotland’s soil served God well,
and other monks saw your blooms as a sign
of angelic gifts in dirt-stained fingers.
Holy are your hands, that make lettuce grow,
And bring out turnips when hunger lingers.
Your carrots shine brighter than jewels glow
on chalice where wine becomes holy blood.
Saint Nathalan help my garden prosper:
Protect it from all nefarious weeds,
Bring me fair showers, not eroding flood,
And friendly insects at prime and vesper,
to bring good harvest from quality seeds.

Poem: for Alcyone

I have this small notebook my mother made with 24 pages, so I’m going to try to write poems for 24 stars to go in it (since the book’s cover has astronomical/astrological themes).  This one is for Alcyone, one of the Pleiades, and the star that lends her name to the Halcyon Days, the rest period after the Saturnalia that classical Romans observed. One symbol of the Halcyon Days, at least according to Shakespeare, was or is the Kingfisher, a small blue bird with awhile throat band.

Good night, Alcyone, now at mid-heaven
At the hour when I would seek my bed:
Among sisters, you’re brightest of seven;
Too often we lump you with them, instead
Of remarking your own youthful beauty.
Friend to sailors, kingfisher’s falconer:
Poseidon your lover gave you daughters,
Oft named by an ancient astronomer
Moonlighting as poet. Send their laughters
Down to  us — Let their benefic voices
guide us in these times to better choices.