GUEST POST "song of the white dove" Beth Anne Boardman #mythopoetry #author #wednesdaywisdom

song of the white dove

the white dove came again.

i love how she sits far back

in the black, tangled branches

of that wild oak tree –

she glows through the falling darkness,

a phantom of herself….

she used to frighten me,

appearing unannounced

at nightfall….

you’re not from around here, are you?

i thought at her,

that first night….

i’ve tried to make up all kinds of stories

about why she visits when she does….

a harbinger of death?

of change?

but every day changes and dies,

as do we….

her song differs from

those of the mourning doves

that have surrounded me

since birth –

(my father taught me their song)

softer than theirs,

her song floats featherlike,

unmournful….

it curls

wispy

tender

wraithlike

(holy….)

we have watched each other

for years now….

through black ash

and endless smoky grey –

we are dual-captured

by blue-white

myriad starfields --

(our secret)

and still,

her song stops me midstep

midbreath

midquestion --

like an incognito

gasp of surprise….

then i recall an elder’s words

and realize:

she sings

not as a warning of death,

but as an

encouragement

to keep dying….


©2017 song of the white dove by Beth Anne Boardman for mythopoetry.com
©2017 song of the white dove Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Retained

_____________
NOTES

The last two lines recall the wisdom of Chungliang al Huang, who appears in Finding Joe, a film by Patrick Takaya Solomon.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.  

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.

BLOG

For stories and essays on creative life and culture visit Dr. Beth Ann Boardman at MYTHMUSE

POETRY BLOG

POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD

GUEST POST "reconciling grey" by Beth Anne Boardman #amwriting #poetry #authorslife

reconciling grey

sometimes the world’s beauty

seems to vanish

in one whoosh….

death bookends life,

fate turns on its dime,

and rugs shift

under our feet….

poems, words, colors, disappear

metaphor leaves….

shall we hope for no more happiness

if gifts come

on the sharp edge

of a knife?

•

this morning

i stood on my front steps

and this foreign wind

played in my hair,

ran all around my face

and made me dizzy

birds sang confusingly

of nests and mates

and territories….

the sun shone strangely

springlike

and i brought in the laundry….


© 2017  reconciling grey by Beth Anne Boardman  on mythopoetry.com
© 2017  reconciling grey Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Retained

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.  

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.

BLOG

For stories and essays on creative life and culture visit Dr. Beth Ann Boardman at MYTHMUSE

POETRY BLOG

POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD

GUESTPOST "Oh Mother, Mother" by Beth Anne Boardman #amwriting #SundayMorning #poetry

TROPHONIUS & THE BEES
photo courtesy Beth Anne Boardman

       OH MOTHER, MOTHER... 

in grief

sometimes

i cannot say more....

‘mother of gentleness’

‘mother of mercy’

‘mother of kindness’

visit me....

give me the vision

of the next few minutes –

remind me to breathe....

remind me of your presence....

remind me that these events

that shake me –

that topple my world

into pain –

remind me,

oh mother,

the sun will rise....

the sun will rise....

and oh mother, mother –

you will show me how to begin again....

©2017 Oh Mother, Mother Beth Anne Boardman mythopoetry.com

©2017 Oh Mother Mother Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Retained 

____________

notes
In mythology Trophonius or Trophonios is the story of a man who is swallowed up by the earth and transformed into the oraculur demigod or daimon (spirit) of a cave near the town of Lebadeia or Boiotia.

Trophonius translates  as "nourisher of the mind" from the Greek tropheô words and noos. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.  

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.

BLOG

For stories and essays on creative life and culture visit Dr. Beth Ann Boardman at MYTHMUSE

POETRY BLOG

POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD

GUEST POST "a mother glows" by BETH ANNE BOARDMAN #mOTHERSday #SundayMorning #ReasonToKeepGoing #mythopoetry

PHOTO OVERLAYS mythopoetry.com

a mother glows

a mother glows

a mother gets sick

a mother swells

a mother dances about

a mother waddles

a mother wails

a mother dotes

how precious the hands!

how sweet the toes!

how frightening the wails,

how lovely the cradling….

a mother loves

a mother helps

a mother waits

a mother tries

to be redundant

to be unneeded

to be heartbroken

to be older

to be a mother

to be a lover

to be chosen

to be blessed

to love

to leave

to live

 

©2017 a mother glows Beth Anne Boardman mythopoetry.com
©2017 a mother glows Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Retained

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.  

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.

BLOG

For stories and essays on creative life and culture visit Dr. Beth Ann Boardman at MYTHMUSE

POETRY BLOG

POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD

GUEST POST: "day and night/silent wings" by BETH ANNE BOARDMAN #wedwip #mythopoetry #poetry

day and night/silent wings

day and night

my house is surrounded

by sacred wings….

two hawks call to each other across my roof

in the still dawn….

their screes grace the silence,

point to the silence….

they dance on the lifting currents of air

caused by the difference between night and day,

cold and warm,

dark and light….

often they come back just before noon,

when drafts of air surge up off the warming hillsides….

their calls ring like temple bells:

reminding me to be still for a moment,

to stop and touch the eternal in the day,

to take a breath and offer myself to the mystery….

•

another calls

as the sun turns orange

and falls slowly down

into the billowing cotton layer

that covers the western ocean,

drawn up over the day like a soft blanket….

this one summons the night-shift:

the ones who will soar over us as we

live on in the darkness,

as we sleep,

and dream,

and sometimes dance….

when the night is well-established,

their sounds, too, pierce the trying-to-be-silence:

shrill ghostly gliding white cries

of barn owls

and great horned owls

tracking their crawling prey….

•

if you’re outside walking in

that rare warm coastal air,

oohing and ahing over the surprising sharp blue glints

(priceless diamond stars making a

one-night-only appearance….)

if you’re out there,

you can sometimes catch a glimpse

of white wings glowing high above you in the night,

coming in fast,

and soon gone –

right over your head,

without a sound….

but a sheerly distant whistle drifts somewhere behind

those silent wings,

leaving a certain trace

of untouchable presence….

            •

on the very darkest nights,

there is one who comes to the roof-corner

right outside my room….

and even though the window might be closed

against the damp night air,

he announces his landing

with an unmistakable, commanding scree….

I am here for the night.

I sleep and wake

under the jurisdiction

of sacred wings….

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.  

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.

BLOG

For stories and essays on creative life and culture visit Dr. Beth Ann Boardman at MYTHMUSE

POETRY BLOG

POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD




 

GUEST POST BETH ANNE BOARDMAN, PH.D : THE SPIRIT OF ACTION #MayTheFourthBeWithYou

THE SPIRIT OF ACTION

              If one could bottle the elixir of motivation, one might make millions.  What moves someone from stillness to action? 

 - Dr Beth Anne Boardman
    cultural mythologist

THE SPIRIT OF ACTION

If one could bottle the elixir of motivation, one might make millions.  What moves someone from stillness to action?  How does one overcome complacency or emotional paralysis and take healthy, constructive, creative action?

Motivation fades and surges according to its own inconstant logic.  How wonderful would it be, as one slumps at one’s desk, preparing to prepare one’s yearly taxes, to be able to chug down a quick shot of elixir-of-motivation, and get the job done?  How fabulous to conquer stage-fright and let one’s passion fly with an effortless sleight of hand, or get that dissertation done by just opening the laptop.  One hears the phrase liquid courage, but the spirit of action is more mercurial, more insubstantial than Jack Daniels. 

Mercurial: difficult if not impossible to pin down, grasp, define.  Uncontainable.  Not always apparent.  Unpredictable.  Written in the wind.  Words point in the direction of mercurial; images, though, evoke more complex meanings and help illustrate the enigmatic.  Ancient cultures around the world drew or painted or carved the likenesses of winged humans, angels, gods, fairies, and mythic beings who moved between the worlds—between heaven, earth, and the underworld.  Wings signify the unseen power of the air, the mysterious aspects of communication (prayer, intuition, meditation) between humans and what they perceive as invisible, divine energies outside of themselves. 

In addition to angels, gods, goddesses, and other mythic beings, people also honor and pray to saints, prophets, stars, the spirits of the Ancestors, and/or the planet’s natural elements.  Celtic tradition collectively names these unseen energies the Otherworld.  Fantastical images and stories of otherworldly beings emphasize that Divine Power(s) exist outside of the human world and thus remain unpredictable and inscrutable to humanity.  Jungian and Archetypal psychologies suggest that each individual’s mind and imagination can reflect these otherworldly energies, with the caveat that one may contain aspects of the divine but cannot possess all the power of the divine.  In other words, we recognize Love in ourselves, but we do not command the power of Venus or Aphrodite.  One may embody qualities of a Warrior or Defender, but one cannot bend the energies of Mars or Aries to one’s personal human will.

Diverse sacred traditions admonish humans not to gaze directly upon the gods.  The gods/the angels/the spirits – all shy away from explicit contact, and their reticence must be honored.  When the Biblical Moses encountered I Am that I Am on the mountainside, he saw only a burning bush, and through this interaction, understood that the human form cannot contain or withstand the actual power of God.  In the Greek myth of Semele’s contact with Zeus, her pleas to see him directly resulted in the spontaneous immolation of her human form.  These stories and others like them reinforce the reality of human frailty, our divinely ordained imperfection.

Early Greeks and Romans told of Hermes (Greek) or Mercury (Roman), gods who traversed between the worlds, passing messages between


gods and humans and accompanying beings that needed to travel to and fro between heaven, earth, and the underworld.  Represented by wings on his cap or the heels of his boots (or both), Mercury’s essential responsibility and quality, therefore, is to come and go; and since he is a god, his movements are beyond feeble humanity’s ability to predict or command.  Mercury gives a face to the unseen spirit of action, illustrates the ephemeral power of motivation. Alchemists, the philosopher-scientists of old, called this spirit Mercurius, the force they recognized as the power behind both worldly and spiritual transformation.

This is the mystery of motivation: human will-power can achieve much, but only inspiration, the visitation of the mercurial spirit of action, can lead us to accomplishments beyond our planning.  Mercurius provides us moments of its otherworldly power to transform ideas into actions, dreams into realizations. Like any of the other gods, the Spirit of Action will not be summoned, only invited.  And when invited, it may or may not coalesce.  A humble stance honors that the great energies of the universe defy human containment.  Creative, purposeful action requires a sensitive dance between power and receptivity on this spider’s web of life. 

In paying attention to the quiet whisper of our inner guidance and gathering up our human willingness, we take the first step on a new journey.  Along the way, we honor the otherworld and welcome the mercurial power of action to suffuse us with inspiration.  Honor the gods, the old stories say, and remember to give thanks for those times when we find ourselves wonderfully mid-action, not knowing quite how we got there, and amazed at finding done what we thought we couldn’t do. 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites.  

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children. 

BLOG

For stories and essays on creative life and culture visit Dr. Beth Ann Boardman at MYTHMUSE

POETRY BLOG

POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD

#NAPOMO 2017 #GUEST #POETRY #BLOG "reopening" by BETH ANNE BOARDMAN for #NATIONALPOETRYMONTH

reopening

i found an old poem –

written on a warm day,

when a dramatic offshore wind

streamed spray out to sea,

off the crests of rolling, tumbling

massive turquoise waves….

“here’s the truth:”

the poem said. 

“I no longer believe

in true love….”

oh! sad! (i thought.)

(how long ago did i write this? why?)

“I no longer believe in love

between a man and a woman,”

the poem went on.

(hm, what?)

“I believe in

  silence

  and space

  and the

  great unknown.”

(ah!)

“I have gone into

 the place

 I have always feared.”

(yes!)

“Beyond ideas of

 love –

 and into

 silence.”

(oh, yes!)

•

silence:

a cold, interstellar

kind of place, at first –

terrifying

huge

endless –

like standing in

the mouth of a huge black cave….

yogis, holy people, healers

tell us:

in silence lives all possibility.

all dreams

hopes,

nightmares

next to despair –

we humans will

hop like jack-rabbits,

dance like deer

(i’m afraid i’ve done these things myself)

just to outrun  

silence....

ubique silentium….

•

here’s the thing, though:

silence contains the grail –

truth, love – tristan and iseult, arthur, the green knight –

it’s hard to describe, but

listen….

in welcoming my own existence,

in making a hospitable place for my dreams,

i am finding a dearness in myself –

what a surprise! 

and all my loves have deepened,

and breathing comes ever easier,

and guess who just walked in my door?

True Love!

©2017 mythopoetry.com
©2017 Beth Anne Boardman All Rights Reserved

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Beth Anne Boardman, RN, MA, PhD lives in California and New Hampshire. She travels and lectures on the Mythology of Sport; Women and Myth; and the Alchemy of Adolescence (her dissertation topic), in addition to consulting as a writer to websites. 

Recently, Beth has served on the board of the Pacifica Graduate Institute Alumni Association and as Regional Coordinator for local alumni. Her career spans work as a registered nurse, the study of world dance and music, and the profound joy of raising two children.



For more poetry by Beth see
   POEMS FROM THE OTHERWORLD


For stories and essays on creative life & culture see   MYTHMUSE