Posted by: Isidora | September 7, 2009

Isis poetry

Poetry seems to be one of the key media through which we can express our feelings/experiences with the Divine. The way it works best for me, is to poise my fingers over the keyboard, clear my mind, invoke the Goddess…and start typing. What comes out is by no means finished. It’s more like notes for a poem. Then I work with it and shape it, making it into something and discovering its meaning. 

The value of this process for me is that I often get images that I would not have come up with in my normal state of consciousness. Sometimes, they don’t make logical sense, but they do make a kind of poetic sense. Sometimes I edit them out, sometimes I just leave them in, hoping that they’ll communicate what the Goddess intended.

To show you what I mean, I’m going to do a little experiment right now. Fingers poised over keyboard…opening…invoking…and typing this:

long black wings against a blue white sky clouds bending into circles interpenetrating the blackness of feather of feature of faith clean sharp shriek of light coming into my mind clearing feathered fog leaving its own breath I am hearing you now

That’s what it looks like first out of my brain, whispered in hints from some Muse-form of Isis. Kinda reminds me of Symbolist poetry from the late 19th/early 20th century.

Now, I’ll break it up into phrases and add punctuation as remembered from my mental “hearing” of it:

Long black wings against a blue-white sky. Clouds bend into circles, interpenetrating the blackness of feather, of feature, of faith. A clean, sharp shriek of light comes into my mind, clearing feathered fog and leaving its own breath. I am hearing you now.

I’m starting to understand what this is about. I think it’s about the subject of this post—receiving poetic inspiration from the Goddess. So it is an image of what that inspiration can be like. Working with it a bit more:

Long dark wings flash against a purified sky. Blue-white ghost clouds move and spiral, interpenetrated by the blackness of feather, of feature, of faith. In my mind, a clean, sharp shriek of light clears feathered fog, leaves its own breath. I am hearing you now.

I’ll leave this as it is for now. If I had intended to keep this, I would probably work with it a bit more. It’s not quite there yet, but it’s just an example. 

I’ll leave you with a question about this little bit of Isis poetry: That final phrase, “I am hearing you now.” Do you think that’s the poet hearing the Goddess, or the Goddess hearing the poet?



  1. I read this a few weeks ago – since this is poetry, then I interpret (maybe ‘grok’ is a better word) “I am hearing you now” means both things…the poet hearing the Goddess and the Goddess hearing the poet

  2. I know you Isiacs are a poetical bunch. I would love to see your inspired posts. Why not try this? What the heck? What do you hear when the Goddess whispers in your brain?

  3. i read it the first time with my own, and your smae, punctuation, i heard them anyway just as they were.
    It brought to mind an image from earlier today, in a book, showing how a feather was used instead of a brush to paint a bird.
    It reminds me, too, that i have a superstition, whenever i see two or more Crow, (or Raven in the higher elevations), fly over head, i always tell my companions, “Look, Isis!
    If i am alone, i always say, ‘Thank you.” Idunno know why or even when that started… But just know that She must be acknowledged.
    In fact, i am beginning to suspect She has an affiliation with the Flicker! The Flicker came to my yard before i left for the work, and heard one again at the Hallow’s temple, and then also dreamt of one that later that night in a pine tree that was dead in my back yard, next to the fence behind the swing, and had been there for years, but i just let it be.
    And She came to the rest upon the broken top to eat and to rest, so i knew that it was meant to be there, although it was an eyesoar by some human standards, but was just what She chose.
    Suddenly it was as if i awoke and realized that there was no tree there! And came to wonder why i have seen Her three times in feathered form in the one day, that i was also in Her temple and in Her temple with Her daughter, and Her priestess in Her temple .

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