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Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie

January, 17, 2005

Earthwizard's Realms of Faërie: The Poetry of Dwareniel Moone

	
	The Poetry of Dwareniel Moone: Poems of a Wise Woman

In the myths and legends
Of ancient lands
Is a tale buried deep
In Time's ageless sands.

One would have to dig deeply within the sands of time to find poetry of wisdom such 
as this great Lady of the Old Ways brings to us with such skill and acumen. Dwareniel 
Moone's verse takes us on a magickal journey into a woman's life and imagination. 
Affectionately known to her friends and associates within the Craft of the Wise as Moone,  
Dwareniel creates a world of poetic enchantment and fantasy that hints of legend and ancient 
tales of gods and heroes, mythical beasts and beautiful goddesses out of timeless myths.

Yet, grounded and focused on earthly everyday issues as well, she measures the scene of a 
summer night with a deft eye of a pragmatist who knows the secret benefits of keeping one's 
eye and ear attuned to the present moment of need:

The scent of magnolia and jasmine 
Perfumes the sultry night air. 
Twilight turns to darker shades 
As I sit on the back porch stair. 
The street lights turn on one by one, 
Shadows deepening around their light. 
I plant my feet in dew-wet grass, 
Stirring fireflies into flight. 
I listen with rapt attention 
To the melody of crickets and frogs, 
That blend with distant sounds 
Of shifting leaves and barking dogs. 

                       from Midnight in the Garden: A Midsummer Eve's Musing

She gathers and organizes this scene with a fully awakened sense of reality. One will not find 
abstractions and allegory in this verse, one finds a woman who has lived and thought through 
things in a concrete way. Her verse shows the subtle defining characteristic of all great art: 
she takes the commonplace and makes it uncommon within her verse! She makes us 'see' with new 
eyes the everyday world before us. Then we realize that magick is not elsewhere, but is the 
very stuff of our everyday lives as we live out each and every moment with gusto. 

Walter Pater, once commented, that poetry "attains the power of giving joy by its form as distinct 
from its matter."  Moone shapes her verse to the forms of modern vision by attuning us to the 
spiritual underpinnings that bind and connect us to the traditional worlds of our ancient ancestors. 
Her forms take on an inner resonance of joy that free our minds to inhabit space of thought that 
transport us into a realm that is at once full of light and vision; yet, also keeps one foot in 
the everyday world of our daily tasks, thereby helping us gain that balance of the light and dark 
within our lives that keeps us on a steady course through each days struggles. 

Moone is very conscious of the plight of our earth and its natural resources:

The roving clans 
That raped the lands, 
Cut down his beloved trees. 
And so, alas 
As time did pass 
The Green God fell to his knees. 
He retreated then 
To his sacred glen 
Where he once was so revered.

The old god Pan becomes not so much a god of the ancient dream of earth, as he is a remembrance 
for our modern world of a time when the earth was still healthy and pristine, not as it is now 
glutted by overuse and disabuse by the great civilizations of commerce that blindly rape the 
forests of wood, and the jungles for profit from building dams, and the slow desertification of 
the great veldts of Africa and other lands. Moone's poetry redresses these wrongs not in an overt 
political statement, but through a keen sense of natural vision akin to poets such as Wordsworth, 
Keats, and, even, such religious visionaries as the American Bard, Walt Whitman and Emily Dickinson. 

At the end of her poem, The Dragon's Myst,

Only lore remains now 
To be reminisced 
Of the magickal realm 
Of Dragon's Myst.

Let us hope that our own earth and its creatures will remain for a long while yet, and that such poetry 
as Moone's may teach and instruct us through joy and light to hold back and slow the forces of decadence 
and destruction that would destroy our home planet. Let us hope that our children's children will not regret 
our age and its fatal mistakes as having being "Only lore remains now/To be reminisced..."


essay, by Earthwizard, aka, Steven Craig Hickman
	� February 22, 2004


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