Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

shamrockYes, it’s St. Patrick’s Day. The day of The Green.

So be bold – go dance in the winds, throw shamrocks to the stars, kiss the Blarney Stone if you’re at the Castle, wax poetic if you’re not, remember good friends (Ireland’s great for finding the best of them), drink a Guinness or two and toast the magic, spout Yeats, Beckett, Heaney, or Joyce,revel in the music of tin flutes, bohrans, and Mary Black singing ‘Ireland’ – and then, for sure for sure, welcome that gold bucket full of love and luck into your life, and celebrate the day.

Happy St. Pat’s Day Everyone!

A Light in the Window

                                                                    ©Aliana Alani 2017

I have just put up a  new page called, A Light in the Window – a call of love in action to all – inspired by a woman in Ireland many  years ago – Mary Robinson. A light in the window is a call to – BE A LIGHT UNTO YOUR WORLD – to take a stand for kindness and love here and now.

lamp2-txt-sized-down

 

 

LET’S IMAGINE, YOU & I…

PUTTING A LAMP in the window of our homes, and turning it on – a soft glow that shines for all to see – 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, all year round. A light, that by its very burning, says here stands a home for decency, kindness, and caring.  Here shines a light of peace and love for all.

To learn more about what this is all about, please go to the page A Light in the Window If it touches your heart, turn on that light – and share this posting (and the ones to come) wherever you can. And bless you for doing so.

The poem … ‘I Had A Dream’

Yesterday I posted a ‘Prelude’ to this poem to give you a sense of how it came to be, the feeling of power,magic, and yes perhaps even destiny, that wove round its coming into form. Here is the poem itself. It is very long so do hang in there. Thanks!

Digital Camera

 

I HAD A DREAM…                                      By:  Aliana Alani – updated ©2016

I had a dream on a wayward night when the moon was riding high.
A dream of the future once hidden so deep, now crying out to arrive.
A dream with a voice, a dream with a name, a dream with a purpose true.
A dream that grabbed me by the heart and begged me to see it through.

The dream spoke of a land, full and rich, steeped in the power of words.
Where voices whispered in morning mist and councils longed to be heard.
Where the earth was ancient and the song was of old, its colors royal too.
Where legends lived and prayers could be heard locked in the morning dew.

It spoke of a time when the world was right and the island knew its name.
When keys were forged in the glistening light of a golden destined flame.
Buried they were in the depths of the earth beyond terror and human sight.
Beyond evil hands and evil thoughts and intruders come to dig in the night.

For it was known then by those who could see between the sleeves of time
That hungry men would stretch their hands across the water’s broad line.
They would stretch and claw and grab for themselves pieces of the soil.
The land would burn, the land would bleed, and men would know only toil.

And all that was holy, all that was pure, would drown midst a sorrowful cry.
The power of the day would run for the dark, its magic now needing to hide.
Men’s spirits would live in the midst of night’s hue serenading a somber song
And all that was free, unfettered and true, would seem lost in a captor’s bonds.

The seed would be sent to foreign lands with young stomachs yet to be filled.
Such worlds appeared new, wild and alive; still the heart could not be stilled.
It longed for the green, it longed for the mist, it longed for those hidden keys
That called from the depths of that deep dark earth and promised a spirit free.

There would come a time when the world itself did not know which way to turn.
It would look to the left, it would look to the right, its lessons still not learned.
The seers knew such a time as that would wash harsh o’er the souls of this earth.
It would toss them and turn them, it would tumble them round, all before the birth.

They knew those keys would be needed then, so potent with life was their door.
Each encased in a golden light so pure, its spark took one straight to the core.
There would be no denying the power of its flame, no denying the power of truth,
No denying the light that would soon emerge, its flag flying o’er all of the earth.

It would come from an island once lost in pain, an island of war and of strife.
It would come from a place ancient yet new that oft seemed to have little life.
It would tear at the heart, sing to each soul, it would open doors so long bound.
It would call to the day, it would call to the night, it would call to the table round.

The island would live, the island would breathe, the island would claim its place.
From the north to the south, the east to the west, its spirit cast in lasting grace.
Its song would circle a troubled world, a loving voice long destined to be heard.
A white dove would fly from a hilltop high, and the dream would now emerge.

And those who had sat on that still dark night when the keys were buried deep
Who had watched them sink within rich moist soil, their secrets there to keep,
Whose hearts were etched in the print of the plan, fired within a golden mold,
Would be called from far, would be called from wide, their stories to be told.

They would place their print in the palm of the plan, the heart’s song to be sung.
The earth would tremble, the soil would shift, and the birthing would have begun.
Then the ghosts of the past meet the spirits of the day, awash in a glow of light
And that which was sorrow, that which was pain, is dissolved by a higher might.

Soon a love song is sung through emerald rain, a song so full and so strong.
Its call can be heard through forests and fears, through hatreds and rivers long.
It’s a song we long for, a song held in our hearts, a song the world needs to hear
Brought from an island long known for words, sacred and destined and clear.

I had such a dream on a wayward night when the moon was riding high.
A dream of a future once hidden so deep whose time had finally arrived.
A dream with a voice, a dream with a name, a dream with a purpose true.
A dream that grabbed me by the heart and begged me to see it through.

                           Aliana Alani © 2016

Digital Camera

 …for the heart song of Ireland

Prelude to … ‘I Had A Dream’

 

MANY MOONS AGO, in what feels like eons but isn’t, just like eons can feel like moments but aren’t, I had one of those poignant experiences that it sometimes seems only time in The Green can give. It was the after edges of Samhain (Halloween to those who live west of The Big Pond), I was staying at a friend’s in an area that could easily be classified as desolate on a grey rainy day, which it was. There was a brooding feel to it all, as though something could pop out of the unexpected any moment. It was Ireland after all, so this was possible.

I STARED OUT a many-paned window as raindrops splattered on glass and a welcoming fire crackled from behind. I was looking at a leafless tree that resided along the edge of the driveway with birds now gathering on it. I watched. And strangely, I waited. When it seemed they had all arrived (for what I did not know), I counted. I admit it, I was curious – partly because there were so many, and partly because they were all ravens. Ravens, as some say, are superb magic makers, shape shifters par excellence, sounders of creative births. In other words, powerful. No one worth their emerald green seaweed would mess with them.

I ADMIT THESE WERE EARLY DAYS for me in The Green, still I swore I could feel the dulse of the sea beginning to cling to my very being (let alone my heart) and so I paid honour where honour was due, and promptly counted again. Yup, twenty-two. Twenty-two ravens perched on a tree, waiting. I had a feeling they were waiting for me.

SO I DID WHAT ANY SELF-RESPECTING BEING SHOULD DO. I asked what they wanted. ‘Be raven.’  They said. ‘Come see. Come see.’ What could one do but agree. After all, there were twenty-two.

AND SO the journey began.

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WHAT CAME OUT OF IT many hours later was a poem – a rather long one done in verse, which I don’t normally write. It was called, I Had A Dream. It touched my heart and brought tears to the eyes. I shared it with friends and a few I did not know. Then time marched on, I left The Green, and the poem, as poems sometimes do, went into the now-labelled ‘Poetry – Ireland’ file.

AND THERE it sat, until now.

I’M NOT SURE WHY I’m meant to share this with you. Perhaps it is the changing times. Perhaps within the blowing winds, the ravens are calling – ‘Come see. Come see.’ Perhaps it will touch your heart as it did mine. Perhaps, just perhaps, if you live in The Green or feel its stories wafting through your soul wherever you may be, it will sound a chord of remembering, and in so doing, awaken a long prophesied dream.

ONE TINY ADD-ON – It is my sense that there are places in this world that carry keys; keys that when re-discovered, and then used wisely, become of enormous benefit to us all on this fragile exquisitely beautiful planet. To me, Ireland carries one of those keys.

BECAUSE IT’S VERY LONG, I will share the poem with you in the next posting.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

 “The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” …W.B.Yeats

shamrocks for st patrick's day

It’s St. Patrick’s Day – so go on now, celebrate The Green, raise a glass to the isle, toast the impossibly possible, dance with good friends, delight in great moments, and whatever you do, don’t forget the magic – because the magic is so much of what makes The Green, and life itself, truly special.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY EVERYONE!

shamrock

Why be more loving, and why now? … the interview

I recently did a podcast interview with Ahonu & Aingeal Rose of World of Empowerment. It’s called – Why be more loving, and why now? – and is #139 on their podcast list.

Like the last article I posted here, the interview is a bit long so hang in there with us – there is a spot part way through where you can stop and go get a coffee if you want and then continue.

It was a joy to do and I hope in some way both food for thought and a bit of inspiration for us all around the importance of loving now. If it speaks to your heart, do share it. And so many thanks for doing so.

I’ve never put a link in before so fingers crossed that I do this one well.

http://worldofempowerment.com/why-be-more-loving-and-why-now/

Aloha and many blessings to you all.

May love prevail everywhere with everyone.

IRELAND, I am SO proud of you.

I lived in The Republic for a number of years so I know what a sea change this is. That vote yesIreland has cast its vote and now become a beacon for equality in marriage is a beautiful thing. That the Irish Diaspora came from all over the world to vote spoke volumes. That many shared with such eloquence and caring their personal journeys was a gift of courage given to us all.

Ireland is and has been many things, but for me, under all its poetic story and mysticism, it is first and foremost a land of the heart. Sometimes that heart has expressed itself through sadness & sorrow, sometimes through hardship and difficulty. Certainly it has arced its way through melancholy for many a lifetime. But it always carried that pearl inside ready to burst from its shell and shine for all the world to see.

Today is a day Ireland shines a light on love.

We are all blessed because of it.  Sure and it’s almost enough to make a girl fall in love with The Green all over again!

…many thanks to whoever did the wonderful wall mural. Hope you don’t mind that I took it from the internet for this posting.

Happy St Patrick’s Day

 

shamrocks for st patrick's day

Today has become a celebration of green beer, green rivers, green ties, green clothes and a touch of Riverdance. It is also a day where we send Irish blessings across the world as if we were Irish, whether we are or we are not. It is a day when we celebrate – The Green.

And it is a day where some hope that as we cast that bit of fairy dust across the skies, it will kiss our lives with joy and bless our hearts.

Every country, every land, carries within its journey blessings and sorrows, gifts and challenges, things to be remembered and things to be let go of. Ireland is no exception but what it also carries (and I say this from having lived there) is a song of story and of heart so deep, and yes sometimes so clear, that it could crack wide the realm of memory and bring us home to what is true – if only we would let it.

It is the home of the poet, the mystic, the minstrel. The weave and fabric of its word and story can linger with you no matter where you travel, how far, nor for how long. Somehow, strangely, you find yourself still breathing its slow air.

Happy Paddy’s Day Everyone. May the sun always shine on your days and may the tale of your life be blessed with a delicious dose of magic and a cup overflowing with love.shamrock

Friends…

Some waft through your life like bits of sky cloud – here one moment, gone the next. Their impact is pleasant, perhaps important, maybe even dazzling.

Others linger over tea and a few biscuits of time, even a life experience or two. You toast a year together, perhaps another, and they are gone; their names etched delicately in the treasure chest of your heart.

But there are some whose presence mingles like starlight and something magical is brewed within the tempest teapot we call life. The halls of memory ring with laughter and poignant moments, kindness and bursts of wisdom, and of course, because how could good friends be without this, love. These are the ones who never quite leave, though time or distance might test the threads. Their well of caring is deep and whether you speak a thousand times a day or only an email now and then, they are with you (as you are with them) through the celebrations and the challenges. They are the jewels that linger.

I have been blessed with meeting many people in my life. I have also been blessed with friends. Like most, I suppose, there are but a few who become the lingering legends. They are what I lovingly call the elite circle in my life, and they are small in number.

One of them recently left to ride the skies and dance with the angels.

His name is Bill Murphy. And this is my oh-so-tiny way of honouring his presence and now his memory.

Bill is/was from the land of sun and sand, heat and light, an Australian. Like many Aussies I’ve known, he went tracing his roots back to Ireland, and like some, never quite left. We met in The Green. Bonded by a love of sun, wrapped in a mist of Ireland, sometimes wondering what the hell we were doing there, often marveling at its depth of magic, longing to feel the heat again, we became friends.

Bill had a twinkle in his eyes that made you wonder, as though he knew something delicious you might want to know. He was funny. He was wise. He had been gifted with the ability of insight, which he used gently. He was my introduction to Australia, a land I came to love, and I will always be grateful for that.

Bill was a generous man with a huge heart, and like many whose hearts are big, it was often fragile. Life challenged it like it challenges us all. As a friend, to me one of the greatest blessings in his life is that he finally found the love he had been searching for and the family he had always longed to have. Jacqueline is a jewel and they are beautiful together.

Bill travelled the slippery slopes of lymphoma for a couple of years or more. It wasn’t his first illness but it proved the toughest. There were moments when it looked like he’d come out of it (I confess I never quite ‘saw’ him leaving). He made it home for Christmas – my last email from him was of a triumphant man having been able to eat a Christmas dinner with his family!

Bill left us on January 3, 2014.Bill at the barbie

In Australia, they call a friend – a mate. Bill Murphy was my good mate and I shall miss him.

G’day to you Bill – enjoy that light, and buckets of thanks for the moments and the memories. Love ya!

To dream …

As we begin to crest the wave of the holiday season and move closer to the end of a year, many of us start, once again, to ponder dreams and desires, both new and old. Forget the resolutions. This is more about the questions that help us sculpt a new world for ourselves. Questions like: what is a our heart’s desire, what do we truly love to do and are we doing it, how would we like to spend each day of the next year of our lives, and for some, with whom? Are we daring to love? And then there’s the larger question – what do we want for our world?

Dreams (and desires) are like stories waiting to be told. Sometimes we dare to look in their direction, feel a flutter in our hearts, and act. Sometimes they filter through the night space rather than the day, hovering.

As I ponder the power such dreams can hold and what waits in those proverbial wings, a wonderful Irish poet comes to mind. Someone whose work I have a fondness for – William Butler Yeats.

Below is a poem in which resides a segment many have come to know. I offer it to you as food for thought. I sense that Yeats would have liked that.

william butler yeats

 

AEDH WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN    –  

BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

 

 

Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.