Invocation

Goddess of all births

Empower me with peace

For the common good of all

For children who play under trees

You shine continuously as the sun

Let the dawn arise, let it be done.

Danu you hold healing grace

May you blessings flow through me

Like leaves that dance to earth

Clouds that swirl in sky

Water that will continuously run

In the rivers and streams, let it be done.

Mother of all beings hear me

As I seek magical working energy

With wand, stone, fire, and song

Healing myself as I stand tall and still

Power of harmony, fire of the sun

Let the drops fall on my thumb, let it be done.

By Ruth Ann Oskolkoff
July 7, 2012

Cover of Sacramentals

Sacramentals

I have four Buddhas in my home,
St. Brigit’s Cross on the wall, water
from the Chalice Well in Glastonbury,
my wand I made from White Willow –
scented smoke rises, blue flame burns
my center is still while the wheel turns.

A small flat stone from the Irish coast,
candles lit, a nativity set,
bust of Beethoven, chapel bells,
a crown of birch, a handmade bowl –
Sage burns sweet, water in West
my inner pilgrim walks on her quest.

Pinch of Meadowsweet, I Ching sticks
two angel statues, tarot decks
a clamshell rattle with my own hair,
this white southwestern pottery bear –
Incense rises, feathers in wind
I feel as if we never sinned

A paddle painted red and black
Ogam staves in handmade sack
assorted stones on a piece of cloth
print of Christ carrying the cross –
rocks shout out loud, raindrops splash up
while I sip wine from the common cup.

Jury Duty Rag

Lunch on the second day in the back room
Where there are a few round tables for those
With laptops and who want to place styrofoam bowls
Of soup on something sturdier than a lap
In this light green room with the river bridge art
Networking, texting, typing, earphones on
Warbling through the break in a dash of determination
To fit a few drops of ourselves in between munches
Or slurps, crunches, chews, nibbles, and sips
Then back to the questions and selections
For the afternoon of sitting and listening
To the judge and many request to leave
Due to multitude of seemingly good reasons
Seasons of hardship, a physician has no one
Who will see her patients, teachers no one
To teach their students, non-refundable
Flights, no one to care for children, small
Businesses unable to function if the trial
Goes on as planned all next week.
At 1:30 we will line up and ascend
To learn the fate of those who wish
To be excused and of those who remain.

A Poem in 15 Minutes

This lone, almost rotten apple sits
On the workroom lunch table also
Covered with gossip magazines
One of the two microwaves are
On heating someones lunch
Humming a breathy monotonous
Sound along with crumbling
Napkin, soup in dish, chewing,
Water running and a cleared
Throat create a workday song
Never silent as the almost
Inaudible whir of the two
Refrigerators can be heard
In place of any quiet
Reassuring the kitchen
Residents that all continues
To run as programmed
“Ding” interjects the microwave
In best R2D2 communication
Signifying the food is hot.

M. A. Thesis on Sacred Space and Film

http://www.druidry.org/library/members-articles/de-locis-sanctis-intimations-emotion-and-experience-narrative-landscape-and

This New Poem

Lazily starts down the line of the page dripping

like a fresh bit of French Vanilla ice cream in a sugar cone

I am eating before it melts and become a puddle

of sullen sweet calories destined for none

crisp cone in my gratitude for being 48

years old and starting new with something

springing from a place where children live

while I occasionally visit this world

of make believe, charms, and touchable

luminous startling crystal salt snacks

that give me a feeling of endless days

and groovy pictures flow down the  street

like a little river and playful grey haze.