Patricia Carragon has been published in Poetz.com, Rogue Scholars, Poets Wear Prada, Clockwise Cat, Luciole
Press, Up the Staircase, Kritya, Inscribed, Live Magazine, Chantarelle's Notebook, Tamarind and more. She is the
author of "Journey to the Center of My Mind," published by Rogue Scholars Press and in several anthologies,
including "The Ice Road Poems," The Yuki Teikei Haiku Society and South by Southeast. She hosts and
curates the Brooklyn-based Brownstone Poets at Cafe Sutra in Park Slope and at The Fall Cafe in Carroll
Garden and is the editor of the annual "Brownstone Poets Anthology". She is online at
http://patricia.carragon.home.att.net/ and http://myspace.com/pattiekake8
Press, Up the Staircase, Kritya, Inscribed, Live Magazine, Chantarelle's Notebook, Tamarind and more. She is the
author of "Journey to the Center of My Mind," published by Rogue Scholars Press and in several anthologies,
including "The Ice Road Poems," The Yuki Teikei Haiku Society and South by Southeast. She hosts and
curates the Brooklyn-based Brownstone Poets at Cafe Sutra in Park Slope and at The Fall Cafe in Carroll
Garden and is the editor of the annual "Brownstone Poets Anthology". She is online at
http://patricia.carragon.home.att.net/ and http://myspace.com/pattiekake8
Guardians of My Shadow
I live in shadowed whispers,
Enjoy darkness
After sun walks away.
I find freedom in forbidden zones
While others hide
Under sleepy covers.
Nighttime is sacrosanct -
Worshippers sheltered
Within a cathedral of evergreen
And its protection
Until sun's return.
Shame or ridicule
Must never violate
A sacred realm of spirits
Who govern lunar skies above
And earthly matters below.
My shadow's a ritual cloak -
A shelter from sunrays' search
For heresy behind my history -
It is my endurance
And I rely on it for guidance.
I follow it into this haven
Where I enter the circle
To dance with guardians
And other shadows,
Boundless as night,
Resilient as moon -
My soul rises,
Floats like incense.
The Earth Mother rejoices -
Her children dance
And praise blessed eventide
'Round the bonfire.
We sing like wolves
Under lunar skies
Before shadows fade
And Chaunticleer crows
At dawn.
I live in shadowed whispers,
Enjoy darkness
After sun walks away.
I find freedom in forbidden zones
While others hide
Under sleepy covers.
Nighttime is sacrosanct -
Worshippers sheltered
Within a cathedral of evergreen
And its protection
Until sun's return.
Shame or ridicule
Must never violate
A sacred realm of spirits
Who govern lunar skies above
And earthly matters below.
My shadow's a ritual cloak -
A shelter from sunrays' search
For heresy behind my history -
It is my endurance
And I rely on it for guidance.
I follow it into this haven
Where I enter the circle
To dance with guardians
And other shadows,
Boundless as night,
Resilient as moon -
My soul rises,
Floats like incense.
The Earth Mother rejoices -
Her children dance
And praise blessed eventide
'Round the bonfire.
We sing like wolves
Under lunar skies
Before shadows fade
And Chaunticleer crows
At dawn.
Patricia Carragon
Sacred Truth
The forest has magick
In the hands of trees.
Trees are natural wizards -
Their verdant power lives
In the veins of leaves.
Their feet have many toes
Rooted in sacred truth -
A peaceful power,
An unspoken love,
A living language,
An ancient scripture
Whispered in the breath of wind
And in the heartbeat of streams.
My feet are foreign to this sensation,
But you stand in perfect balance -
Your soles touch enchanted terrain.
You're in rhythm with the forest,
Your eyes have seen its bounty,
Your fingers are etched in magick -
You're enriched
With your habitat's power.
I'm uneasy with your gentleness,
Yet you listen and say more
When you take my hand
Because you have the hands of trees,
And touch me with magick.
You beckon me to remove my shoes,
Walk into the world
Your toes know so well.
I follow you into the forest
Where the sacred truth awaits -
A peaceful power,
An unspoken love,
A living language,
An ancient scripture
Whispered in the breath of wind
And in the heartbeat of streams.
The forest has magick
In the hands of trees.
Trees are natural wizards -
Their verdant power lives
In the veins of leaves.
Their feet have many toes
Rooted in sacred truth -
A peaceful power,
An unspoken love,
A living language,
An ancient scripture
Whispered in the breath of wind
And in the heartbeat of streams.
My feet are foreign to this sensation,
But you stand in perfect balance -
Your soles touch enchanted terrain.
You're in rhythm with the forest,
Your eyes have seen its bounty,
Your fingers are etched in magick -
You're enriched
With your habitat's power.
I'm uneasy with your gentleness,
Yet you listen and say more
When you take my hand
Because you have the hands of trees,
And touch me with magick.
You beckon me to remove my shoes,
Walk into the world
Your toes know so well.
I follow you into the forest
Where the sacred truth awaits -
A peaceful power,
An unspoken love,
A living language,
An ancient scripture
Whispered in the breath of wind
And in the heartbeat of streams.