At the Gates of Dusk

At the Gates of Dusk
By Muninn's Kiss

I stand alone at the Gates of Dusk,
A fire blazing in the sky.
The trees are shadows, the clouds they glow,
The water reflects the light.
A sun half down but still half up,
Dying but still alive.
A time of change, a liminal time,
A time that is between.
She stand before me and opens the Gates,
The oldest but latest born.
She beacons forward to follow the sun,
Down to its lonely grave.
Alone I stand with only her,
The enticing and love Dusk.
But back I step from that fair breach,
And turn my eyes to home.

The Call

The Call
By Muninn's Kiss

As the metal hare settles to sleep,
The water dragon stretches and stirs,
The world serpent around the world,
A curled serpent in a cave,
Slowly stirring, his coils spread,
In the underworld he's made his nest,
And waited through the coldest time,
Darkling serpent, shining snake,
His head he raises and starts to move,
Crawling forth on fair Bride's day,
Up the Well of Worlds he comes,
Across the Veil from world to world,
He hears the call of a thousand flames,
Candles lit and fires bright,
The heat, the light, it calls him forth,
Through deepest dark and waters cold,
Up he crawls, reborn from death,
Cthonic darkling, to worlds above,
Ravens dance the dance of death,
And flames the flicker, the spark of life,
The Bride she calls, the serpent comes,
Reborn and new, the strange Horned Child,
And a ring around the moon.

Her Scars

Her Scars
By Muninn’s Kiss

She is not a spotless virgin
not a flawless bride
not without blemish
not young and in her prime.

Her scars are like canyons cut in her skin
the Grand Canyon
Zion Canyon
the Marianas Trench.

Her skin it ripples with stretch marks
like hills rising and falling
ridges and valleys
from the moment of plates.

In her sickness a fever rages
like wildfires and forest fires
grass fires and oil fires
burning away the sickness bringing new life.

She hasn’t shaved and seldom does
hair standing up on her skin
like trees and bushes and shrubs
uneven all different covering her skin.

Blood and puss bubble up from her skin
blood spewing forth like lava
flowing down the mountains of Hawaii
puss shooting forth like ash covering the land.

She is not spotless not flawless not young
but the scars of her age show her beauty
each scar a work of art adding to her perfection
Would we have the Earth any other way?

What Did You Know in the Womb? A Riddle

What Did You Know in the Womb? 

A Riddle

By Muninn's Kiss 

What did you know before you could speak?

What did you know in the womb?

What fled your mind when you learned your first word?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you hear on the wings of the wind?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you learn from the crash of the waves?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you feel from the towering trees?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you learn from the smallest of leaves?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you learn watching the herds?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you see when you watch the wolf hunt?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you feel in the soul of the hare?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you learn soaring with the hawk?

What did you know in the womb?

On what was the earth founded older than all there is?

What did you know in the womb?

Who cries out in the streets and the gates?

What did you know in the womb?

Whose sister understands all and brother knows all?

What did you know in the womb?

What do you know more the less that you know?

What did you know in the womb?

What's deeper than deep and higher than high?

What did you know in the womb?

For what would you give your own right eye?

What did you know in the womb?

Whose craft do you know and whose art do you serve?

What did you know in the womb?

The older you get the closer you get,

What did you know in the womb?

When you step across what will learn?

What did you know in the womb?

The cold womb of Death the warm womb of Life,

What did you know in the womb?

The Throne of Bone

The Throne of Bone
A Poem of the Winter Solstice
By Muninn’s Kiss

Darkest night and shortest day,
Shadows reign and darkness calls,
The shadowy figure of Death stands by,
Patiently waiting for all to fall.

Each child born will surly die,
None is spared and all know why,
At Death’s bone throne each one will come,
He needn’t search for all will come.

The sun sets earlier for half the year,
Night grows longer, shadows strive,
The year he ages as do all,
Growing weaker, growing frail.

The time draws near when he will die,
The year we’ve loved so hard to watch,
The mourners all do gather round,
For letting go is the hardest task.

With the sun, the year does set,
Sinking down into the grave,
Like each man, he bows his knee,
And presents himself at the throne of bone.

In his birth we knew he’d die,
For every beginning contains the end,
We watched him grow like a new born lamb,
We watch him die at the Slaughterer’s hand.

Every beginning has it’s end,
But every ending is born again,
With Dawn’s first light like the Morning Star,
The new year rises and live once more.

Fresh and hopeful, full of life,
The year reborn begins his flight,
We watch him stretch and try his wings,
We glory that he lives again.

Forgetting the grief and sorrow past,
We pretend he didn’t see Death’s own face,
With the new year, we fly away,
Trying to forget our own mortality.

A Riddle, A Musing, A Poem

A Riddle, A Musing, A Poem
By Muninn’s Kiss

Three Mothers stood alone.
Aleph, Mem, and Shin.
A great mystery are these three,
Watching, weaving, and true.

From the Mothers came three Fathers,
Stranger still are they.
Six rings around the Twins,
From six proceed all things.

A riddle I ask you, a riddle so true,
Can you answer me this?
A musing I give you in the form of a poem,
Do you catch my drift?

Three stood alone before all things,
Three who are older than time.
Six stood alone in the Outer Dark,
But which came before which other?

How old is Nimue, how old's the child,
Is she younger than all the rest?
How old is Ninue, is she younger than you,
Who was the very first born?

How old is Mari, how old's the mother,
Was she born and when was that?
How old is Mari, is she older than that,
Who's the reflection of God Herself?

How old's the Anna, how old's the crone,
Is she more ancient than all the rest?
How old's the Anna, is she older than dirt,
When was the Priestess born?

How old's the Blue God, when did he dance,
Was he very first born of all?
How old's the Blue God, how young's the youth,
Who is the last to endure?

How old is Twr, how old is Krom,
Is he father or teacher of all?
How old is Twr, in his tall tower.
Who's sword will cut through us all?

How old is Arddhu, how old is Death,
How long has he stood at the Gates?
How old is Arddhu, did youth or true death,
Come first in the order of things?

Three stood alone before all things,
Three who are older than time.
Six stood alone in the Outer Dark,
But which came before which other?

A riddle I ask you, a riddle so true,
Can you answer me this?
A musing I give you in the form of a poem,
Do you catch my drift?

From the Mothers came three Fathers,
Stranger still are they.
Six rings around the Twins,
From six proceed all things.

Three Mothers stood alone.
Aleph, Mem, and Shin.
A great mystery are these three,
Watching, weaving, and true.

Riddle of the Tree

Riddle of the Tree
By Muninn’s Kiss

What is the World Tree?
What is the Axis Mundi?
What is Yggdrasil?
What is Ygg's Steed?
What is Odin's Steed?
What is Sleipnir?
What stands at the Centre of the World?
What bridges worlds?
What is the rainbow bridge?
What is Bifrost?
Where is the Centre of the Compass?
Where is the Circumference?
Who am I?

The Womb of Night

The Womb of Night
By Muninn’s Kiss

In the deep dark Womb of darkest Night,

A Child is born by Dawn’s new light,

He grows and grows as seasons pass,

First real thin but getting fat,

And as time passes he comes to age,

A bright round face both pale and fair,

But then he fades and loses weight,

Thinner with each passing day,

Til death does take him in the night,

The Womb of Night his final Grave.

The Year is Drawing Nigh, a Samhain poem

The Year is Drawing Nigh

A Samhain poem by Muninn’s Kiss

As darkness fall, the veil thin,

The year is drawing nigh.

Shadows lengthen, gather strength,

The year is drawing nigh.

The dead they stir, and look around,

The year is drawing nigh.

Tonight they walk, tonight they dine,

The year is drawing nigh.

The sinks down, she’s dying now,

The year is drawing nigh.

Beneath the hills, the dying sun,

The year is drawing nigh.

Hollow hills, they open wide,

The year is drawing nigh.

Faerie folk, the mighty dead,

The year is drawing nigh.

Samhain’s fires, burning bright,

The year is drawing nigh.

To dance around, in death’s embrace,

The year is drawing nigh.

Ancestors dead, some long gone,

The year is drawing nigh.

We tip a glass, we place a plate,

The year is drawing nigh.

Death stands up, tonight he reigns,

The year is drawing nigh.

In darkness strong, the dying year,

The year is drawing nigh.

The revelers grow deathly quiet,

The year is drawing nigh.

All knees bend and all tongue stilled,

The year is drawing nigh.

For Death takes all and all will come,

The year is drawing nigh.

The Gates of Death, they open wide,

The year is drawing nigh.

His face you meet, at Death’s great doors,

The year is drawing nigh.

A friend, a judge, a lover, a blade,

The year is drawing nigh.

His embrace is sweet, but deathly cold,

The year is drawing nigh.

In love he strips you, bone from bone,

The year is drawing nigh.

Nothing left, you pass beyond,

The year is drawing nigh.

The veil it parts, the doors swing wide,

The year is drawing nigh.

Your last strong breath, last orgasm,

The year is drawing nigh.

And through you go, to what’s beyond,

The year is drawing nigh.

But Death’s great doors and Life’s fair doors,

The year is drawing nigh.

What’s dead and gone, will be reborn,

The year is drawing nigh.

A new breath breathed, a new day dawns,

The year is drawing nigh.

Death to Life, he takes your hand,

The year is drawing nigh.

All is gone, but all in new,

The year is drawing nigh.

The new dawn’s sun, in the east,

The year is drawing nigh.

The cold it flees, the shadows hide,

The year is drawing nigh.

Dark Samhain’s night to new year’s light,

The year is drawing nigh.

What was dead has come again.

Night's Wind

Night's Wind
By Muninn's Kiss

The dark surrounds,
Enfolds,
Fills all,
Hides all,
Secrets and mysteries,
Danger and terror,
Peace and calm.

The wind blows,
Out of the night,
Out of the darkness,
Moving hair,
Moving leaves and grass,
Pushing,
Pulling,
Something alive,
Something strong,
Like a hand,
Grabbing,
Taking,
Trying to take.

Is the wind the darkness?
Is the darkness the wind?
Dark wind,
Night’s wind,
Fair Nyx lost in shadow,
Reaching out,
Grabbing,
Taking,
Trying to take,
A wind on skin and hair,
A darkness that can be felt,
Hungry,
Consuming,
Dark wind,
Night’s wind.