Soul Awakening

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Philosophy Poems
by Alison Stormwolf

Everyone has their own philosophy about life, suffering, mysticism, and transcendant reality. Mine has developed as I have walked the Red Road of the Spirit. When we realise that in even 'everyday' events there are signs and wonders hidden awaiting translation, yes and in the Royal Road (Carl Jung) of dreams especially. I see poetry and meaning in everything.

Note: Please do not take and use any of my poetry without prior permission and linking instructions.


Signs, Wonders and Blessings

Looking around for meaning
Signs, permanence
She observed the cobbled street
A dead end leading to a small bridge
over a river
Realising sudden significance
Skilled as she was in dream interpretation
She gave thanks silently
For this quiet sanctuary
Before the crossing...

© Alison Stormwolf


Hell Can Wait

Escaping brick confines
Into the garden
In time for yet another deluge
She considered bartering her soul
That thing held sacrosanct
All these years of struggle
The one thing that bastard 'life'
Could not rob from her
but the still small voice said "no!
It's almost dawn!"
So she poured herself another glass of wine
As she cried angry hot tears
Cursing her nature of
'No Surrender!'

© Alison Stormwolf


Tears In The Fabric

Worlds within worlds
Interpenetrating realities
Innumerable, unfathomable
Sometimes they visit mine
Sometimes me theirs
I saw him last night, my father
Almost 23 years gone
We laughed and talked and it was so good
Then lucidity dawned
I told him he was dead
And he told he wasn’t
I told him I loved him and begged him not to leave me
He told me he never has
But the words made him gradually disappear
And I was left crying to his fading voice
Of reassurance
First there

Then here.

© Alison Stormwolf


Shadow Lands

I need to dive deep
Into the chaos of my dreams
To retrieve my pearl before
The waters drown me,
I can only hold my breath for so long
But that will never hinder my quest

As a newly single parent, years before
My dreams were always of babies
abandoned in prams, starving
How could I have left them there?
Such distress
Guilt and being overwhelmed
Does strange things to the psyche

My night time hieroglyphics
remain challenging
No escape from actions, decisions
So glad I took the time
To study my ancient symbols...
Inhabiting a parallel universe
I need to have a map
The right tools
And so I go on

Night to day
Here to there
Sometimes lost
in no man’s land.
Questioning always questioning
Revelations a two edged sword
Maybe I should cut myself in two?
that would be
The answer.

© Alison Stormwolf


End Times

Who will be my hero?
when times grow dark
and the drowning soul needs light?

Whose words will
evaporate the dirt of the age
shine my mirror clean?

I cannot swallow your words
for truth is easily digested
and lies are stuck in my throat

Nations are manipulated
Souls live in fear
bound and chained by lies

The old ways have died
they suffocated through lack of light
Great darkness is in command

take what action you can
for the machinery is already in motion

End times are manifesting
We CAN change the script
Together we can alter this holograph
Humanity is screaming for deliverance

Do not believe it?
Buy another outfit, get a high definition TV
So you can watch in 'high fashion'
the meltdown of civilisation
as we know it.

© Alison Stormwolf



Sea Creatures

sea creatures by Stephanie SiwekWe can dance in the shallows
Splash and laugh in the small waves
Lie on the sands of time
And dream of distant horizons
Echoing over the waters

But it’s when the night comes
and the dark oceans swell
That we dive to the depths
Of our beings
And expose our inner longings

Dive deep...

© Alison Stormwolf




Head to Tail

A good heart sours
under a critical sun
and a joyous feeling can crumble and decay
when showered with the poison
of other's condemnation
good intentions can come to naught
can turn around like a viper
and swallow whole the head of it all
and there are no winners
but the circle is complete.

© Alison Stormwolf


Gambling on the Grouse Fields

I knelt naked and trembling
Then I found myself
a cloak of peacock feathers
Wrapping it around my body
I became a different person

I transformed into a show bird
A party animal
A strutting pruning Golden Pheasant
But the feathers did not suit me
And the attention was not to my liking
So I made a deal with a stoat

"Take my feathers
But leave my body entire"
So this wily killer decided
That it was good enough
For his country credibility
To see a pile of broken coloured feathers

So we struck a deal
He took my feathers
And I crept away
But heart beating.

© Alison Stormwolf


Early Morning Carnage

I saw a startled pheasant
On my road one day
Nature combined with man
Instinct compared
With thundering wheels
Oh the instinct would have saved him
But the thundering wheels descended
For he hesitated

Lord, how I hate
Thundering wheels

© Alison Stormwolf


Hidden Power in Music

The orchestra played as the Titanic went down
At first as a delaying tactic for panic
surely all must be well?
Then an act of pure bravery
Hastening on many souls
Into the next world

The Jews at Auschwitz were serenaded
By the camp orchestra
Shaved heads and emaciated bodies
Replaced ballgowns and jewels
Musicians, dead inside,
And those being herded like cattle
Alike…lost, cut loose from comfort
Projected into unreality

Pipers walked unarmed towards certain death
The pipes urging our bravest and best
Fathers, husbands, lovers and young men
Into the relentless sea of machine guns;
Mustard gas and endless stinking mud
Cutting them down like marionettes in hell
back into the trenches
Lifeless staring eyes, rats and despair

Music has always had the ability
To inflame the passions or sooth the soul
Because it acts on our subtle senses
At times the juxtaposition of soothing
While suffering terribly
accentuates both
A demonic blending of two sides
of the same coin

This power is abused by those
Who are aware of it
So the National Anthem will make men kill
While feeling proud
In confused minds
of manipulation

Oh there is a time for all that
A time to be proud...
We need to step
Outside the music
To know.

© Alison Stormwolf



The night was not her problem
Though the images and scenarios
Ripped her apart
They were painfully relegated to those
Inhabiting another reality

And yet she knew
She would have to face them sometime
No avoidance from life / death
No escape or bolt hole…

Who is mad?
The one who sees it coming?
Or the one who says
It will not come

She no longer knows.

© Alison Stormwolf


Night Visions

Closing her eyes
She sees blackness
A central screen
Not uniform
But black
A central splurge of dark ink
like a negative of brightness
on the retina

Last night she saw
What she had seen before
This time in Holy setting
Sweat lodge vision…
A brick wall

So clearly did she see
That familiar vision to her now

Only last night the wall
Had a clear dial in the middle
Numbers like a digital clock
Unable to discern the time
Or frequency of changing

Too immersed in the recurrence
The potential significance
The striving to tell the time
Of this vision

All will be revealed
For before….
She saw a brick wall
Dead end?

And now she sees that wall
With a timer..
The flashing dial

Counting down

To what?

© Alison Stormwolf


Children of the Dark Moon

We, who live under a dark moon,
Ponder unimaginable visions
For we see, oh what we see!

But do not want to give those thoughts
To manifest sooner
All over the globe there are others
Like us..

For changed times are upon us
and our fathers have gone
So we must be the elders now.
A strange poison is within us
so step back from the well
lest you become infected.

Remember the teachings
of your youth
where innocence
honesty and truth held sway
people were not blinded nor gagged
nor veiled

I cry for the freedom
of my younger days.

© Alison Stormwolf


Swan Song

It came to her one day
While innocently drying her hair
Surveying her reflection...
The paradox of living
And the suffocating realisation
Was like a Boa Constrictor
Round her chest right then

The planets move in mathematical precision
Seasons change with unrelenting truth
Babies are born and people die
Millions work to make money
Searching for their Holy Grail
Few are happy
Nobody is

And her screaming soul
Nailed her on the spot
Crucified her feeling

That it’s all



© Alison Stormwolf


Seeing the Whole Picture

Read somewhere it is impossible to love
And judge at the same time
Wise teachings
'Glass houses' and 'specks in eyes'
Knew someone once who was honest
As the day is long
Everyone hated his guts
For his honesty was never coupled with
Empathy or caring

During the last war
Russian parents slit their children’s wrists
On the trains bound for the Stalag camps
Rather than let them suffer
Women smothered their newborn babies
In prison camps

Old lovers have walked into the sea
Knarled old hands holding fast
To one another on this final trip
Rather than the indignity of separation
Dementia... incontinence

Sometimes bad things are done
For good reasons
Who among us
has the right to judge?
We can rewrite the rules
No virtue in resisting
What has never tempted you
No advancement in evolution
Of your spiritual journey
In judgement.

Unless you have seen
Through another’s eyes
Walked their path of grief and painUnspoken Reality

Love lacerates us totally
All in one I am both consumed
And crucified by love
Knowing in my soul there is no separation
But being in the human frame
Is agonising

I could scream aloud my love
For it threatens to both rip me open
And paralyse me in intensity
For life is passing
This burden is beyond description

I see humanity
And like the most exquisite
Classical music
It sings a song
Too pure
I could

© Alison Stormwolf


By Whose Authority?

Myriad facets of love co-existing
None more worthy than the other
For love is the highest emotion
Elevating us to the heavens through association...
Accepting, forgiving, freely given,
Erotic, spiritual, deep and passionate
How can any part be wrong?
I would rather stand accused of loving wrongly

© Alison Stormwolf


The Joke

It’s been a long journey from that young filly with the rangy legs
Who was it said that youth is wasted on the young?
They spoke the truth and no mistake
What kind of cosmic joke gives us insight and wisdom
So that we can see with lucidity our downhill journey?
Shallowness of spirit is one thing
But witnessing the passing of time as registering
On your physical is no laughing matter…
Or maybe it is?

Maybe that is the answer
If so
I will laugh
Till I hurt…

© Alison Stormwolf


Blissful Depth

Children are born close to heaven
Takes time to acclimatize those little ones
New and unfolding
Into the trials and the dramas
So, much time is spent sleeping
The elders are close to heaven
Races run and dreams dissolved
War worn and weary of it all
Some rage against the flesh prison
Some take refuge in the thinning of the veil
Its why I love dawn and sunset
Times of transition are charged
with such meaning....

© Alison Stormwolf





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and may not be reprinted without explicit written permission.
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please email Alison for prior permission. See Terms of Use.