September 17, 2010

By the river

I returned to the riverside park,
the day quiet, a few dry leaves blowing,
the river glassy, more like a lake really.
The lovely park which is all river, all Her,
Her power and majesty manifest,
just some grass and a sidewalk
plus Her, the River, magnificent.
There in the quiet by the tree of seven stems,
not a shred remained, but the memory of all this,
Oshun holding us gladly, still gazing and singing on the shore.
The voices chiming forth Her name,
the drummers and the drums,
the priestess bowing right to the ground,
the dancers, the smiling families,
the babies held high,
the worshippers offering their golden honey
for Her, for Her they moved to the river’s shore,
for Her they poured out their golden love,
their needs, their pain.
For Her someone doffed her clothes
and swam to the other side!
We gathered there by the river,
in the name of love and no more war.
We called out loud to Oshun,
for joy, for water, for our lives,
and She sings there still, calling back to us,
remembering our names.

Annelinde Metzner
Woodfin Riverside Park
September 15, 2010

July 23, 2010

Morning at the Sanctuary

The first morning light seeps in the diamond windows at the Bali House.
All night, accompanying my dreams, the river roars,
punctuated with her bass tones, under the boulders,
guiding me in a language I don’t speak.
“Weee-hooo,” says the first morning bird,
and “Thump!”, a half-eaten apple falls on the deck.
All around, the exuberant vines intertwine
with the butternut and the rhododendron of the woods.
“Safe here!”, they all seem to say,
even the three butterflies who fasten themselves to my shoe.
At three AM the stars blanket the night sky,
reaching their fiery fingers into our dreams.
This morning I gaze into the misted woods,
letting the visions speak to my shadows,
letting go, letting it be exactly what it is.
Barefoot, I feel the cool stones and the dewy grass.
A day on Earth.
The sun streaking through the walls by my bed,
a whisper of thanks unbidden.

Annelinde Metzner
July 20, 2010

May 25, 2010

Water Garden

Water Garden

Approaching by a narrow path, steep drops,
the women arrive, astonished, at the little grove.
A water garden in the woods!
Tumbling, tumbling over neat steps,
the sparkling water of early spring
delights our ears with its singing.
Nearby, a Trillium, a Mayapple spring forth.
We close our eyes and breathe deeply,
giving thanks.

Annelinde Metzner
May 25, 2010

(Photo by Patty Levesque)

April 13, 2010


Moving over the mountains,
there are powers bright as dragons,
traveling, traveling, up and over.

The air is never still.
The power flows.
We can only sense it.

Only a knowing, a sensing,
a shining at the summit,
arching over us, unceasing.

The mountains are never still.
Over her skin, the power is moving,
the dragon traveling, timeless, shining.

Annelinde Metzner April 12, 2010