The Truth of An Old Soul

The Truth of An Old Soul

A Story by Brette Medb
"

This will probably be added to later but this is the Truth of An Old Soul.

"

    The words halt at the tip of my mind refusing to flow other than scattered images around my tired psychie. This is my curse. When there are so many thoughts, so many images, delusions if you will they fight to be exposed, to be understood by my conscious. My Muse has an odd sense of humor, she brings me dreams, visions of what could be but then laughs at my piteous attempts to put thought to paper. Whispers in the darkness haunt me in my waking hours and lands of long ago stalk my dreams. A soul out of place in this modern time, a longing to go back to my native home. The Emerald Isle of my soul, the place of old that calls out to me, tearing a piece in my already wounded heart. An emptiness so vast it seems as though even the great Atlantic Ocean could not fill the caverns that have carved themselves within the very depths of my soul. An Old Soul, a name, but yet so much more than just a name, the truth of my existence. A name that has slowly defined me as I realize with every passing day it's truth.

To dance beneath the darkened sky
Whispers of magic blowing in the breeze
Power abound within the soul of old
To call upon the roots that lie so deep.

    These are the words of my past, of my present and of my future, these are the words of my heritage. Both Native American and Irish, The Shaman, the Wisewoman, the ageless Great Spirit lives deep within me calling me to a lonely path that I know I must take. A sense of duty that others know not, but the demand of my soul to spread its wings and teach those who do not understand. That is the bane of my existence. Being bound to others through my need to teach and to lead others on their path through life, but seeking the solace of a forest or a desolate beach. Where my soul shall find peace has yet to be discovered but alas that is the curse of an Old Soul, to be forever trapped in the duty to help others and the wish to be in ages past. The only release; the written word. 

© 2008 Brette Medb


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well brilliant words ring so true when they come across the ears in which they were intended. in my own mind and through the experences that i have seen and understood i know now i am not alone! i am an old souls as well as old as merlyn himself, his thoughts ring true in my heart and in my deed of action. but still i struggle against being who i was ment to be because i do not want the loneliness that will follow, but at the same time i live it each and every day. to be a druid in my case, it is to seek knowledge and understand the world around me. to teach what i know so people may live in intelligence not ignorance. i do understand the aloneness, solitary thoughts bring out the best and when you put them to paper it transcends it to beauty uncomprehendable by visions and it is one form mother has aloowed us to understand our own minds and to glimpse what athers are thinking.

i like the honesty that you put forth and the way it just is! well done and may the blessings of the ancients truly bless and keep you and the lord and lady watch over you!

blessed be!
windstorm

Posted 12 Years Ago


4 of 4 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

excellent write..

Posted 9 Years Ago


A sense of duty that other know not, but the demand of my soul to spread its wings and teach those who do not understand.... I love it. thank you for your beautiful words. The whole of your poem puts into words that which my soul longs to speak.

Posted 10 Years Ago


This is really a very intelligent and visual piece, Brette. I enjoyed reading it...twice. You are quite the wise old sage, huh.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Gave me the thought of Frost's "Two roads diverged into the woods." He took the more difficult one and became a poet. Very vivid imagery. I taught for many years and it can be a difficult journey, which is often not appreciated by the greater culture.

Posted 10 Years Ago


I like this writing about time musings and very interesting ones at that....contemplative meditation about past, present, and future.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Greetings ancient believer, great visuals!

Posted 10 Years Ago


This is a remarkable write....really enjoyed this read...
Peace

Posted 10 Years Ago


Damn that's colorful!
I love your style and use of words...

Favorite part:
"
To dance beneath the darkened sky
Whispers of magic blowing in the breeze
Power abound within the soul of old
To call upon the roots that lie so deep."

Its easy to remember and damn just read it for gods sake! lol
Truth to be told, I am still saying WOW

All the best,
Tamer

Posted 10 Years Ago


The story is very good. Such great heritage Native American and Irish. I'm Native American and Scottish. Most of my life I went into the belief of my Native American blood. I like the story. Some people are born with old eyes and spirit. I like the ending. My written word is my release also.
Coyote

Posted 10 Years Ago


You paint with such a vivid, rich depth. Here you create a sense of personality and the intricate workings of the heart and mind, sweeping over time and space, heritage laced in life. Beautifully expressed.

Posted 10 Years Ago



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Added on June 16, 2008

Author

Brette Medb
Brette Medb

BOSTON



About
So many things have changed and I'm just trying to catch my bearings. All I want is to start writing again and not lose myself to all this change. more..

Writing
Time Time

A Poem by Brette Medb