lirik lagu færy - imbolc
[spoken]
the church
i am not built to revere this place
my sacred is filled with earth, raw and moist
similar to the power i hold between my legs
fertile, fresh, and free
its stained windows and forbidden corners press me down into myself
arms akimbo, wrapped within each other out of fear of touching the forbidden
i wander
all in knots, in knots all over
the history of this place bleeds into my bones
once white and bleached, they are flooded with memories of those who burned for thеir beliefs
the mothеrs, daughters, sisters, brothers lost to the ever~reaching claw of modernizing, containing, quelling, capturing, studying, stripping and wrapping up again
to hide the sins encasing the flesh, too ripe and hungry to be revealed
i am not made for these moments, but i take them anyway
stolen sights and lights caught through shafts of stagnant air
like silvered fish caught in a net
i feel the goodness here too
i see the mother of all things still surviving
her whispered wisdom still breathing life into the walls
i know we are allowed our differences, and that’s why i wander, hands still holding each other, to taste these other lives which run parallel to my own
there must be a connector, something greater than a soul that will show us the way forward
how to piece these stained shards back together
to form a beautiful whole once more
i just wish the truth would run down these stone walls
commissioned by yet another man to seal up the wonder that lays beneath, to entomb honesty, to enshrine only one piece of coloured glass, to seal it within metal so that it cannot wiggle and just be held to the light, examined and marvelled at, but never set free back out into the everything and all of existence
i suppose one day when the sun ripens and bursts, all the shards of us will hang lit from within, the great resounding endless lock~shut moment of ending and beginning, in much the same way as we burst forth into existence, all life spilling from the mouth of a star and plummeting meteorite, a molten ball of possibility spinning truth into light
we will say to each other as the great nucleus of the life~ripening rock of all we know expands and shatters, lighting up the true colours of our innards as we marvel at impending death and at the colours that exist inside us all
but perhaps it all was true in the end
all ashes return to ashes
all dust becomes dust once more
all light flashes back to its original form
to start again
to prove to us once more we know absolutely nothing
and in that nothingness is everything
and in that everything is emptiness
and we are all just rotating round into eternity
each lap bringing us closer to being our own personal sun
each of us trading positions for a different perspective
until we finally realise
ah, yes, mm
we are all one
we are all one
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