14 Quotes by Tamara Rendell

The Moon, a white basket for my prayers

Dreams are like the old stories where wolves are seekers always running, and women carry fire in their bare hands and light the dark paths before them.Old stories hold that the birds will fly all the miles of the world to tell your secrets to the rising moon, and men will walk over oceans of ice to find one truth.

We are all of lifewho stepped from the seatrading weightless journeys of the currentsWe are all of lifewho build and tear down and build againto find gold and silverto find scars that weep and bleedto step from the seato stay with the sea

WINTER'S GHOST:Autumn moonincautious in the dark riverWinter’s ghost walkswith a covered faceand silver bones wait in all animalsto be bone cloth upon her shoulderwait for her happiness in that they are silver

Drink in the heat of an ancient sun held in the cold fire of water rising from earth and rockSpilling over your cupped handsand drawn to lips and tonguePouring water’s memoryof the azure mist it fell frominto the chalice of your fleshTurning your eyes skywards with desire for the freedom it was born of

The forest rose like a dream from the mind of Chaos’s lonely daughter and the sun fell heavy and thick to warm the blood of a world not quite ready to live but so tired of its own imagination

The storms inside uncoilinto sky held calm by far seeing eyesMemories dressed in the translucenttrickery of the mind,so as to wear life upon themselves,give up their tired dance and runinto free frequency

River with no border the forgetful hand of man Gather harvest from the fallow land Take all memory from it to speak of lonely travellers who hopelessly took orders From armies lined within them marching over fields and valleys As though they were a river not a woman nor a man not a place for which to answer but a cold and shapeless journey from the sea

You were the ocean and we were the land You lay down unflinching You lay down forgetting And you were the ocean and we were the land