I cannot now recall where I first saw or heard it. But I rushed to note it down (all the better to capture it and keep it close?) once I read its gloriously uplifting definition:
securus (latin; adjective)
– free from care, fearless, composed, cheerful, bright, serene, safe.
Have you ever heard a more perfect description of a good life, a happy person, a wonderful aim?
My blogs are usually wordy, but this one single word, this marvellous little dose of lexical soul-medicine… well, I reckon it can just be a blog in its entirety. Because I can literally add nothing more to a word like securus.
May the good people of this world be forever securus.
PS. please, Latin purists, please don’t get on my case about cases. I know. But right now, I only want one version of securus. Because life really is too short, too important, and too complex to be fretting about case-determined inflections. This time, grammar can wait.
(photo by Daisy – no reproduction without permission, please)
The Queen stone of Avebury has been mentioned on this blog before. I identify her as Queen because her top edge resembles a crown and she seems so distinct in shape, generally. Her form is feminine: rounded, generous, sheltering, yes, but sharp-headed and standing strong against the withering, weathering winds of the place. Raindrops linger and shimmer on her upper edges, like a mystic’s pool, or tears of regret on a proud face.
If Avebury was indeed a site of pilgrimage or worship, (holy or heretical, holistic or hubristic), or even simply a gathering place for tribes and traders, there will have been people of rank as well as the common folk making up the crowds, so maybe a queen or a priestess held court there. I imagine this stone as encapsulating this commanding presence.
When I wrote a poem about her, to be set to music by Andy for the upcoming Haven Avenue album, the words tumbled out without much need for summoning or marshalling: the Queen was calling the shots. She had a tale to tell, orders to give, private tears to weep, and she wanted no pity. I felt the form of the poem was vital: like a royal protocol or a formal dance, there was an order and a structure to follow, verse to verse. It imposed itself – yes I wrote this poem, but it found me, bubbling up from within. I think of my doughty Queen as holding onto power in the midst of change and challenge: she will not cede, not yield, …not yet. The poem begins thus: for the final verse, you’ll have to check out the album!
She buried him deep, her king.
Refusing to weep, she walked instead.
Trod paths round and round.
Turned thoughts in her head.
Told sons to wait their turn.
After her. Her heart turned to stone.
Her crown, three jagged points.
A Trinity devoid of jewels.
And yet she glitters in the sun.
Her beauty untouched by four thousand years.She buried them deep, her fears.
Refusing to weep, she talked instead.
But made not a sound.
On mud paths she’d tread.
Told us to wait and learn.
Look at her. Her face turned to stone.
Her throne, a chalk circle.
A Divinity devoid of rings.
And yet she welcomes everyone.
Her soul untouched by four thousand years.
Here is the first chance to hear our début release, ‘Insomnia‘.
The words and music explore those hazy, wearying times when we sink towards sleep but not into it; when all is fluid and ungraspable; when recollected words mix and stumble, and fading images cannot be translated … as though a different language or a different landscape dizzies our perspective. Can we be sure that what we interpret is what was meant?
This song marked the start of our creative collaboration, so it is fitting that we share it with you, for free. Do please leave comments and let us know if you’d like to see Daisy’s lyrics written out in their poem form, or would like more information on how Andy’s music was created. We hope you enjoy this track! If you do, look out for our forthcoming album.
The stones at Avebury are different shapes, and seem to possess different personalities. I like to call this the Queen Stone, due to the crown-shaped top (not entirely visible in this photograph). She has a track on the album dedicated to her, as she inspired the poem which forms the lyrics. Her power and passion seemed to leap out at me, the words flowing like a tale retold, like a river of thought: unbidden, unbound, timeless.