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Radiant Poem

    On Hyndford Street

Van Morrison

Take me back, take me way, way, way back
On Hyndford Street

Where you could feel the silence at half past eleven
On long summer nights
As the wireless played Radio Luxembourg

And the voices whispered across Beechie River
In the quietness as we sank into restful slumber in the silence

And carried on dreaming, in God
And walks up Cherry Valley from North Road Bridge, railway line

On sunny summer afternoons
Picking apples from the side of the tracks
That spilled over from the gardens of the houses on Cyprus Avenue

Watching the moth catcher working the floodlights in the evenings
And meeting down by the pylons
Playing round Mrs. Kelly's lamp

Going out to Holywood on the bus
And walking from the end of the lines to the seaside

Stopping at Fusco's for ice cream
In the days before rock 'n' roll
Hyndford Street, Abetta Parade
Orangefield, St. Donard's Church

Sunday six-bells, and in between the silence there was conversation
And laughter, and music and singing, and shivers up the back of the neck

And tuning in to Luxembourg late at night
And jazz and blues records during the day
Also Debussy on the third programme
Early mornings when contemplation was best

Going up the Castlereagh hills
And the cregagh glens in summer and coming back
To Hyndford Street, feeling wondrous and lit up inside
With a sense of everlasting life

And reading Mr. Jelly Roll and Big Bill Broonzy
And "Really The Blues" by "Mezz" Mezzrow
And "Dharma Bums" by Jack Kerouac
Over and over again

And voices echoing late at night over Beechie River
And it's always being now, and it's always being now
It's always now

Can you feel the silence?
On Hyndford Street where you could feel the silence
At half past eleven on long summer nights
As the wireless played Radio Luxembourg

And the voices whispered across Beechie River
And in the quietness we sank into restful slumber in silence

Although this is on a album of songs it is the most beautiful rendition of poetry.

For this Irish storyteller it takes him way back to when the gas lamps on the street in his home town of Armagh City Northern Ireland were put out by the moth catcher.

If you are a workshop leader and you want people to relax into their imagination take them on a trip down Hyndford Street.

Love it.

Hymns to the Silence

RADIANT SONG

     One Irish Rover 

by Van Morrison

Tell me the story now
Now that it’s over
Wrap it in glory
For one Irish rover

Tell me you wiser now
Tell me you older
Wrap it in glory
For one Irish rover

Bridge:
I can tell by the light in your eye
That you’re so far away
Like a ship out on the sea
Without a sail, you’ve gone astray

Tell me the facts real straight
Don’t make me over
Make it come out alright
And wrap it in glory
For one Irish rover
For one Irish rover
One Irish rover
One Irish rover

Van Morrison has been one of the great invitations of this Irish storytellers life.  There isn't an album of Van the Man's I have not at one time owned.

Due to generosity and the love of puppy dogs his renditions have been given some puppy love.  With all good intentions from the puppies they never play the same again.

This is one song One Irish Rover I love because it is about an Irish rover like myself who is requested to tell a story.

This album also has some of the most beautiful of Van Morrison songs on it. In particular the two I absolutely adore are A town called Paradise and In the Garden.

Newly remastered sound and expanded packaging including lyrics of No Guru, No Method, No Teacher, an album by Northern Irish singer-songwriter Van Morrison, released in 1986. 

The song "In the Garden" was a favorite fan concert performance and per Morrison, "I take you through a definite meditation process which is a form of transcendental meditation." 

This album was hailed by most critics as a return to form. John Wilde in Sounds remarks, "the crescendos here are never dampened by their subtle nature and never fall short of blinding. The whole album aches with a steady stream of sorrow."

No Guru, No Method, No Teacher

I can't remember who introduced me to the music of Loreena McKennitt.  I think it was a wonderful woman who is an Arabian dancer.

Loreena and I have crossed threshold places together.  She has been with me when I walked out of places I should not have survived.  

Maybe it was her beautiful voice that protected me in that dark time when this Irish rover had almost lived his last story. 

If you like stories of history, tragic love affairs, and poetry...listen to Loreena McKennitt's AN ANCIENT MUSE.

An Ancient Muse

Soul of the Sunflower - Vedder

"Shadow Flower and the Gardener of Time"

"Part I of III"

In the Garden of Time there lives a flower called Shadowflower. No one quite knows how she got her rather strange name. All the bees are drawn to this flower for her sweetness and the way she sends out rhythms that dance on the wind. Birds sing more deeply and more beautifully when in the presence of this flower. 

All the little flowers, especially one called “Bright Spirit,” sit at the feet of this seasoned old flower and loved to hear the story of how she got her name. When all is quiet in the Garden of Time and the birds have ceased singing and the bees have stopped buzzing, the flower who loves her own shadow begins the story of how she got her name.

Shadowflower takes a deep breath and remembers.  She remembers a time that once was, has gone now forever but is always returning. She looks into the faraway sky and far beyond the time when her life was not as it is now. She returns to the time, when in the Garden of Time, she was rootless. She returns to a time when she lay in a bed that was shallow and devoid of any nourishment. 

She lay in a bed where there was little light for most of the day, everyday. There was no feeling of opening to the sun. There was only the feeling of shrinking away from the light. Shadowflower felt so sad. In her sorrow she called out to the Gardener of the Garden of Time but it seemed he did not care or could not hear.

But the Gardner of the Garden of Time is not just any Gardener. He is the Gardener who comes from beyond time. He only comes into the Garden of Time when those who call really want to come out of the shadow into the light. Otherwise there is little that he can do to add nourishment to the soil or create an opening for the sunlight. So it was that Shadowflower called and called and called. Her roots began to get dry and hard and this caused her much pain. Finally she thought that she would simply go and lie in the Sun and that would end all her sorrow and suffering.

So one very bright day Shadowflower began to uproot herself. As she was doing this the Gardener beyond Time came and said, "Beloved of my Heart, what are you doing?” Shadowflower covered her eyes. The light around the Gardener beyond Time seemed brighter than she had ever seen before and it stung her eyes. 

She shrank away. "Who are you?” she asked defensively. She had never seen this man before. She feared that even though she felt very bad that he would think she was a weed. That would be the last straw to end up being pulled up by the roots and being thought something as obnoxious as a weed.

“I am the Gardener beyond Time and this is my Garden. You are my Beloved Creation. You have been calling me and I am here to help you in any way that you care to ask me to do so,” advised the Gardner beyond Time.

Shadowflower wanted to say, “Well, you took your time coming.” She wanted to tell this Gardener beyond Time person that she had been calling and calling and that now it was too late. She wanted to say some rude words that indicated he should go away but she resisted. She thought her mother would not approve of such language. "Let me help you, Beloved Creation,” requested the Gardener. This only served to irritate Shadowflower even more. “Who does he think he’s calling Beloved Creation? I’m no creation of his. I created me all by myself with some help from the soil. I’ve never even seen him before!” 

Yet Shadowflower sensed something more. It was in the sound of the Gardener's voice. There was such tenderness in this voice that she forgot her pain. "OK, you want to help me, do you?” asked Shadowflower, with not just a little bitterness in her voice. “If you're so helpful, then explain to me why I have all this shadow around me and what did I ever do to deserve it? I’ve been a good flower all my life!  I haven’t done anything bad! Yet there is all this pain at my roots. I don’t know how I can get it to go away.” At this the flower began to weep and all the petals around her sad face began to shake up and down.

The Gardener from beyond Time remained silent until she had stopped sobbing. He left it a moment and said, “Are you sure that you want to know the reason why you are in so much shadow? "Of course, I want to know,” replied Shadowflower who was feeling that this Gardener from Beyond Time was far beyond anything she had ever met before. Although he irritated her he seemed to listen to her in a way that no one ever quite listened to her before. 

She seemed, despite her irritation with him, drawn to share her heart that felt shrunken and unalive. “OK then,” replied the Gardener from Beyond Time, "The reason why you live in shadow is because it’s The Law. "It's The Law!” responded Shadowflower. “Is that it? You're telling me that the reason for all my roots dangling is because of  The Law?" 

The Gardner from Beyond Time replied quietly, “Yes, Beloved of Creation.”  Shadowflower began to shake. “Well! Let me tell you that I'm really glad you told me that! It is real good to hear. That makes me really, really happy to know that its because of The Law. At least now I can rest in peace knowing that all this suffering, all this pain, all this horror is because of The Law. Gee, thanks! You really do know how to make a girl feel great!.”

When she had finished venting Shadowflower shouted, “And by the way, I am not your Beloved of Creation! I've never met you before in my life and I'm not sure that I want that to change either.” The Gardener from Beyond Time remained silent. This was always the way those in shadow responded to the answer he gave them. He knew that you had to let them shake up and down and go bright red and have their breathing change and their angry words be heard before you could explain to them The Law. Shadowflower took a deep breath. 

Then she took another. She sat down on the ground and tucked her dry roots into the dry earth. This caused her some pain. The Gardener from Beyond Time came and touched her dry body and in an instant she felt, for one joyous moment, pain free.

Wow, thought Shadowflower. "Wow. This feels so good. You are a real Gardener." She remembered what her mother had taught her and she said, “Thank you." "You're welcome, Beloved of Creation.” Then the Gardener Beyond Time smiled and said, “Sorry, you asked me not to call you that." 

"It's OK. You can call me that if you want. You seem to think it's true and to be honest I can do with someone who thinks I am the Beloved of Creation. I certainly don’t feel very Beloved. I certainly don’t feel very lovely.” Shadowflower began to cry again but this time there felt some release in crying. 

This time there was crying but it did not feel painful or pain filled. Shadowflower sat quietly and felt the soil beneath her roots. It felt good and she just wanted to be there for a while. The Gardener beyond Time sat on the ground before her and let her be. 

After a time, Shadowflower asked, “This Law,” and then she hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know more but so far the results of conversing with the Gardener beyond Time had been more than she could have hoped for.

The Gardener beyond Time let her proceed at her own pace. “This Law," she began again. "Tell me more about it.” Then Shadowland`s mother popped into her head as all good girl’s mothers tend to do when they are tying to assert themselves. Then Shadowflower said reluctantly, “Please." 

"This Law is Our Law,” replied the Gardner beyond Time.  This only set Shadowflower off on another of her rants. “Just wait a minute, just hold on there ,” she said slowly at first. Then the rant began to gather speed, “Just you wait there, buddy. Did I hear you right or was it a bee buzzing in my ear? I thought I heard you say that this so called Law is ‘Our Law?’

“Yes, that is true, Beloved of Creation.” 

“OK, Mr. Gardener beyond Time or whoever you call yourself, just answer me this question. When was I ever consulted about this Law you call Our Law? Cause I want to tell you I don’t ever remember being consulted about any such law. And let me tell you more. I don’t think very much of a Law that makes good people like me suffer for no reason. I don’t think very much of a law like that at all." 

Shadowflower was panting. She was up off the ground. She was now stamping her roots. Strange to say that there was no pain in the movement where previously there had been little or no movement at all. She suddenly looked down and saw what she was doing. She started to leap up and down.

“Hey, look at me, I can dance,” she said. And so she did. She forgot the rant about Our Law and she went on dancing there and then and it seemed that a lot of shadows left her face and flew off into the light.  The Gardener from Beyond Time watched her and a soft light fell from his face. He loved the dance. He loved the dance of his creation. Nothing gave him more joy than the dance of the light that he had created in all his Beloveds.

“OK, friend,” Shadowflower said. “I don’t know what game your playing with me but it sure feels good. I’m going to take a chance on you. You seem to be able to pull some strings in this Garden of Time and I think you might well be able to help me. I’m not sure if I agree with all you're going to show me but heck, look at me! I’m dancing!”  And so it was that Shadowflower went off dancing and when she returned she learned The Law.

Go to Part Two

© Tony Cuckson 2009

Another Soul Friend - Kahil Gibran

"click on graphic."

At the beginning of this book the Irish mystic George Russell (AE) wrote:

"I do not think the East has spoken with so beautiful a voice since the Gitanjali of Rabindranath Tagore as in The Prophet of Kahlil Gibran, who is artist as well as poet.  I have not seen for years a book more beautiful in its thought, and when reading it I understand better than ever before what Socrates meant in the Banquet when he spoke of the beauty of thought which exercises  a deeper enchantment than the beauty of form..... I could quote from every page, and from every page I could find some beautiful and liberating thought."