[Alexander Valdes]

Thank you all for responding and taking time out of your day to share a little wisdom from further down the path. I sometimes catch myself reading replies and never responding, so I apologize if I made anyone feel ignored.

Since posting this I have taken some more time to consider my struggles and come to some deep personal conclusions. Needless to say, I was lost in a dark wood but have again found my way.

Thank you again for your responses, they helped immensely with preparing additional resources to aid in my journey.

Also thank you so much for responding Greywolf. I’ll admit, it caused a bit of excitement seeing that you yourself commented. I’m so happy to be a part of this community.

Kindest regards,
Birdsong

PS: Found out my druid name. Came to me in a dream, and the very next day we found a nest on our balcony. Blessings!

[Alexander Valdes]

I agree! I have no anger towards them, but there’s certainly a type of person that thinks spoiling the fun is what everyone likes. The same people that point out the scary bits in haunted houses!

As for my other comment, being an American in his 20’s (and living very near DC) I’m exposed pretty heavily to modern ‘woke’ thinking. Naturally, this includes discussing appropriation. I think it was booklet two that said portions of that appropriation come from a craving for spirituality in one’s life. I believe that to be true, and on several occasions now have pointed people from our shared heritage (my mother came to the US in her 20s, my family mainly lives in Wingate near Durham) towards the study of druidry. Them being usually too well minded to call themselves Apache Shamans still meant they had that missing spiritual aspect in their life. As I show them this path, many express relief at a spiritual cultural heritage they can participate in without being a part of neo colonialism. Often it starts with them asking about our altar or wanting to come on a hike (which then exposes them to our weirdness!!).

[Alexander Valdes]

I know this may sound very reductive, but I suggest wearing bright colors or silly shoes if anyone is having difficulty in dealing with the gaze of others.

Revel in weirdness and demand to be seen. Wear that hat, or that shirt you like that you don’t think fits right. Voice your opinion and laugh loudly at jokes. If the world refuses to understand, make them love your strangeness.

Also, as a practicing member in America, the conversation with appropriation often has opening to extoll the virtues of the Bardic path.

[Alexander Valdes]

Thank you guys so much for the feedback, it’s all I could ever want for my personal growth. I’m incredibly interested in learning more welsh poetic conventions and using them in my work, so thank you so much BlueFalcon for that recommendation.

And Mr. Poole thank you so much for the kind words. I don’t often dream (a side effect of a choice I made) but more and more as I open myself to this path I find myself in all sorts of experiences when asleep.

Also I really love the feedback but ‘d love even more to see other people’s work!!

Here’s another of mine to hopefully inspire someone to post their work:

How can I speak of an ocean
when my lungs are full of water and salt.
if I describe the shells, you will
miss the sand.

What sense is there to senseless blue?
There is no way to explain
my love of putrid water. In its waves I have
dissolved my memories,

and the brine tastes of seaweed and horseshoe crabs.

[Alexander Valdes]

Hello! Nice to meet you!

Interpret the poem however you like! Once it’s written, it isn’t mine anymore (unless someone puts it in a book without asking lol).

The song I was listening to specifically was O, Chí, Chí mi na mòrbheanna sung by the King’s Singers. Beautiful choral piece performed by John Cameron.

If you have any work I’d love to see it! I’m a teacher by trade, and just a general fan of poetry. /|\

[Alexander Valdes]

Also to get things started, here’s a poem from me! It’s about a dream I had, leading to a five hour long musical meditation.

In my palm is soil and seed
and growing from it, a tree
with water running down it’s bark.

Closing my eyes, the water creeps
into my skin and veins
then moves through my chest.

Running my hand through a memory
I feel old stone that pushes
the water down to my legs.

Where vines from my ankles
wrap up to my knees-
there are now dew drops on the leaves.

Birdsong in my hair,
my eyes open with sunlight
and the vines grow higher.

Blue meets green at the waist.
noon settles, bugs chirping in my ears
as soft clouds pass my shoulders—

Night, and my teeth glow
in the crescent moon.
softer sounds echo in my nose.

Water and vines together
all the way past my fingernails;
face of sky turned upwards.

Sounds of my fathers music
deep in the jungle-
and there too is home.

[Author]

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