NOTE: Pendragon did not write any of these poems.
He collected them from various sources.

---

Poem #1 Through time and the ages Too many lies Mystics and sages With tears in their eyes Truth in the darkness Hiding, untold Waiting for someone To open the scroll

---

Poem #2
Before the mountains, rivers, and seas,
Before the beasts and birds and trees,
Before the span of rainbow bridge,
Before the wolf ran on the ridge,

Before the rising of the sun,
Before the moon's first monthly run,
Before the stars had birthed this world,
Before the planets danced and twirled,

When all was blackness as of night,
Before the glimmer of first light,
Before the sun's rays first did scatter,
Before the void gave birth to matter,

Before the dance, the word, the rhyme,
Before a ticking clock marked time,
Before all strength, all speed, all force,
Before we came forth from our source,

There was, in what was not a locus,
Beyond dimension, and still unfocused,
Eternal moment without duration,
Vast, not needing purification,

God of Isis, god of Horus,
Deep within the elder forest,
Dancing in a candle's flame,
Known to us without a name,

The sun doth rise on each new morn,
Day from night is newly born,
Our power is but the Power reflected,
Though separate creatures, we are connected.

Looking inward, now it seems
We see the truth within our dreams

---

Poem #3
I am the Goddess, the Earth, your true Mother
Approach me without fear, for you know me in your heart
I speak to you with the voice of the wind
The shoreline is the hem of my robe

I am the breath of hope, the maiden, the new morning,
The promise of spring
I am the mother, the midday warmth,
The blessings of summer

I will draw you to me as the day fades
I am the Wise Woman, the Healer
Who mourns the waning year

And when the wind blows cold
Bidding life to withdraw, to rest, to dream
I beckon you as Crone, the Dark Mother,
From whom you were born, and will be born again.

---

Poem #4
Change is the essence of life.
Change is the nature of all reality.
Dawn breaks, and we change the world,
And the world changes us.
We dance the dance of daylight.
Night falls, and our conscious minds rest.
But the life of the deep mind goes on:
Reliving, integrating, dreaming, healing,
In the shadowy realms which are nonetheless real.
We dance the dance of darkness.
In like manner, we are born to dance the dance of life,
But when that life is over,
And it is time for us to rest,
The life of the spirit moves on to other realms,
And we dance the dance of death,
And we belong to the peaceful darkness once again.
Death is part of the grace of nature.

....... from an idea in True Magick - a Beginner's Guide by Amber K (Llewellyn Publications, 1990), p. 126.

---

Poem #5
A dragonfly hatches underwater
First he lives as a larva
And swims in the dark, murky depths of the pond
And one very special day
He will ascend to the surface of the water
And break through it
And take to the air
On gossamer wings
I was born a dragonfly
But I didn't know it for a long time.

---

Poem #6
In a dream   —   stepping through the clouded mirror —
I travel to the starry realm of Arianrhod, she who has no limits
The wind whispers her name
When I am there with her, I have no limits
I am a child of the earth and I am a child of heaven
We are connected; we are one
Give me a heart that understands you, O Goddess
Help me to know without knowing
see without seeing
trust without understanding
From the Unreal lead me to the Real
From Darkness lead me to Light
From Death lead me to Deathlessness

---

Poem #7
I've been an eagle and a sparrow,
I am blood, bone, and marrow,
And this body will pass,
But what I really am will last.
I am mind and I am soul,
I am young and I am old.
And all I am, or I have been,
I know that moments do not come again.
I've been a wolf, I've been a deer,
I can see and I can hear.
Everything is just the way it is supposed to be.
I know I need not fear.
I've seen it in the skies,
I've seen it in your eyes,
And I feel it flow through me,
And I know, yes, I know,
I am Oak and I am Willow.

    — Willow

---

Poem #8
She walks in the twilight   —
Her steps make no sound   —
Her feet leave no footprints   —
On dew-covered ground   —
Her hand gently beckons   —
She whispers your name   —
And after you've met her   —
You're never the same

---

It well may be That we will never meet again In this lifetime So let me say, before we part, So much of me Is made of what I learned from you You'll be with me Like a handprint on my heart And now whatever way our stories end I know you have rewritten mine By being my friend -   "For Good" (from the Broadway musical Wicked)

Not all who wander are lost.

A poem by Cather Steincamp

---