I have not got a clue,why i wrote this,it just came to me.
Have you got any ideas,why i wrote this,views much apprieciated.



'Cause spirit has a sense of humor...(seriously)...

I think it's rather good, even if it's from someone/thing else.

Juditha,

I found your words intriguing so I looked up "tangled woods" and this is what I found.  I can find a "mystical" meaning in them, so I thought I'd share.

love, blink

___________________

CRYSTAL COOL WATER

The poet is a hunter consciously and aggressively active in the hunting process of composition. The poetry is whatever is hunted down and transformed by that process in a wilderness of language...The poet is an intermediary hunting form beyond form, truth beyond theme through woods of words tangled and tremendous....through a forest of mystic meaning. -John Taggart, Songs of Degrees, Essays on Contemporary Poetry and Poetics, University of Alabama Press, London, 1994, p.174.


Myriads of mystic tongues find utterance
in one speech and myriads of hidden mysteries
are revealed in a single melody
and the poet hunts in forests of mystic meaning,
searching for the tongues of utterance,
pursued by hounds,
clawed by talons,
with pitiless ravens lieing in wait on the mountain side.
And while he hunts other hunters stalk
and assault him in the bright meadows of his search.
His head falls to the earth, even brims with blood,
but Peace comes at last and the dark night of tangled
trees is no more, only the tall independent pines,
so straight and tall and spacious, with the sun
falling though their intersticies on the book
of his own self, dead at last in a summit of glory,
left behind on the earth beside the crystal cool water
that the Cup-Bearer bringeth! In the journey unto
the Crimson Pillar on the snow-white path.


Ron Price
11 October 1995

Very intriging sis well done love deanna

Hi Juditha-
We've got all types on this forum. I'm the grouchy old man type, I suspect, but you seem to be one of those types who expresses boundless love and light. Also, it seems to me that your posts seem to be moving from personal self to universal Self. So, given that observation, while you're interpreting your poem, you might recall that for a long time you had chosen a kitten as your icon.

Makes sense to me. Especially since experience supports the observation that to "lay the ghost" is best done through love and joy, which together create ultimate peace. So you live in a nice place, the place of love and joy. (In a few more years and maybe I'll come back and haunt you!) It's important to realize that this is more than platitudes and pointless praise. If you get into the mechanisms of metaphysical existence you find that we have three basic factors by which we operate: love and unity, joy and creativity, and insightful awareness. Since there's only three of these factors, and they are sufficient to describe everything, any two of them will lead to the third (in math, that's called two degrees of freedom), and you sem to be in a good place with them all.

Maybe that has something to do with the content of the poetry ... ?

dave

Juditha..I love this.

When I think of "ghosts", I think of "old things, dead things and buried things".  As in the saying "your ghosts come back to haunt you" when things from your past come back to bite you in the butt, so to speak.

Or..in my case my "ghosts" are those beliefs and traditions I have let go of..those things that bind me to a system that is no longer viable.

In many forums, I am known as a type of cat..I use the name "Cheetah" in alot of places.

I'm not saying you wrote a poem to me..but, it speaks to me. 

Thinking of cats..when you sneak up on them, or do things that are against its nature (like say, try to give it a bath ) it strikes out with growling and claws extended. But..when you simply let it be who it is...it will sit and nap and purr quietly in your lap.

I've been feeling my own hackles raise lately..and feeling the need to "growl" a bit..at the old "ghosts who go woowoo"..

Thank you for sharing this..

Lol ... It is also said Poet's are the gatherers of the wind 

Hmmm...a mystery...I've found it attributes to both William James and Ogden Nash...neither female, though James got credited for the "waking up with it in his head" bit...curiouser and curiouser...