ANCIENT TALES

"Ancient was our name, so impossibly far in memory that the very seeds of time had blossomed and seeded over new horizons. New worlds had grown, new worlds had fallen, while sunrise and sunset fell countlessly within our footsteps. Our faces shone on world after world, while the movement below we over saw, but the moment each aeon was born was graced to itself, and we did not watch.

So, we receded like a wave, to watch from the heights as we still do. And we send you our stories to remind you of yourselves - and of the beauty that may yet befall the earth . . . "

In these stories, perhaps you'll find your own. In them lie answers to fill the holes in memory, to fill the place that lies calling for what, it does not know. They are tales to heal, and there are yet more to be known, that wait on the shore of an unknown sea.

This is the song the Ancients sing.Those who birthed the sphere on which we walk, those who birthed the lights of our very souls, they urge us remember.

But that we might just wonder is enough, for to our own spheres are we blessed and bound.

© Louise Amelia Phelps 2003

THE STELLAR GARDENS

Of the stellar gardens, what may you find there? You will find tide and tale, eternity, life, rest, a constant home. An essence that exists not in words, nor can it be held in the fragment of a dream.

The stars send us stories on the aires that lift us, lest we forget the heights

From which we fell, and to which we will return again when our eyes turn to meet the endless dream.

The stars are fountains, they sing the constant song of universes. From the deepest memory and beyond to the place that is the sleepless sleep, the Home of all things.The stars sing their message on the tides of creations whim to move and be moved where they will.

They have an effervescent beauty and translucent light. Their essence calms the souls of those who find them. They are creation, the thought, before the seed, before the flower. And as we are all songs from the beginning so shall we sing ourselves through the heralded time of ends, to the remembered voice of the

Stars that is the home of all things.

© Louise Amelia Phelps 2004

THE ETERNAL INNOCENTS

For the eternal innocents
For the eternal innocents,
Ones who stepped from petals bright
With the light of the timeless soul
Still bright upon their faces.
Who closed their eyes on the world of one shining truth
And opened them onto the world of many.

These songs are for them, To fall upon their ears like a remembered name And ignite the flame of memory
To something bright, something true,
Something like the word of home
Whispered by someone dear.

This is to hush their tumbled hearts.
To be like a ship on the silent sea of their tears
That brings them back to the secret shore,
To the heart of the garden
Whose melody they know like life itself.

© Louise Amelia Phelps 2004

ETERNITIES CHILDREN

They see through eyes that have gazed upon the flowering of a thousand years, who have tasted the air of a holy garden and still remember its name.

"We are children of Eternity's dreaming. We are rays of the first sunrise and echoes of its sound. Born on the crashing waves of eternity, in the arms of a perennial night."

"Our sounds echoed the roaring of the heaven's. Through them we could hear the singing of stares and the booming as the planets turned. We understood the precious qualities of each moment as they danced by."

"Born of a different kind, we never slept, even as we swam in the waters

suspended thought. We saw it all from the beginning; the story of our birth ran through our blood and passed its melody before our waking eyes."

THE RIDER

She rode the winds,
She rode the tides,
She rode the velvet paths at night.
Beneath the moons,
Beneath the stars,
When all mortal feet took flight.

When the nights were bitter cold
Or when the winds were strong,
She would alone
Go forth to meet
That which no mortal hand would greet.

And meet she did with Elf and Fae,
And rode the night through to the day.
The laws of stars to her were brought,
And of their ways was softly taught.

Then in the hush of Midnight hour,
There came a precious holy flower.
Not of earth or sky or tree,
Bloomed once in waves of mystery.
Appeared a moment, then was gone,
But splendid in her memory shone.
In it she saw what was to be
Between the mountains and the sea.

From the enchantment she came again
As the cocks crowed to wake the hens.
She rode out from the forests deep
To find her place and time to sleep.
And sleep she did till moon would rise
To fill the air with joyful cries,
That she would follow, come rain or storm,
For in her heart new days were born.
© Louise Amelia Phelps 2004

THE SONG OF THE RIVER GODDESS

The river is the way my child,
Unto the silver shores,
The river is the way my child,
From my heart to yours.

The waters clear and waters deep
Shall move you through your gentle sleep,
Shall move you in the arms of Grace
To each new and promised place.

To the rivers you will go
And from them you'll return,
When rainbows echo in your eyes
And the star of morning burns.

For my name is a word my child
Upon the breath of stars
My name is a world my child,
Unfolding every hour.