The Swan Maiden

Peaceful words and golden beauty from the studio of Tamsin Abbott

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The swan maiden as afterlife guide has gained power in my life and work over the last few years.  I wrote the poem and then I needed to make the work for the poem. This is it. 

I still feel the gentle brush of the swan maiden’s breast feathers.

I hope she will carry me when my time comes. 

My heart becomes so full with this...

Earth blind, 

I see nothing, 

hear nothing,

but I am not nothing.

I am golden,

suffused with light, 

a new being- 

scattered, 

complete

I am labyrinth 

journeying into Earth .

Symbols surround me,

guide me. 

They guide me through mycelium,

through root,

to tree, 

through branch.

The ravens call me.

The ravens call me 

Heavenward.

Like a breath

I surface.

I am one

I am many. 

I am one

I am many.

Gathering.

Dispersing.

I hear the whispers of trees, 

the language of birds,

the sighing of grasses, 

and then…

Swan maiden 

Wind rushing through feathers. 

She catches me like

moats of dust,

droplets of dew

on her breast,

and flies me

home.

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