A black feather
from her
black feather tree

sways down

she has spread
her red and blacks out
for carrion lovers

lace their moons with trawling nets
bird-pecked crabbed and sweet apple

roll them into grass
bamboo worms a curve into flared ground

black feather sways down

through dream
to this waking place
of stones

A black feather from her black feather tree is the opening poem of SHE, published 12th March 2013.
© C. Murray

she-painting“I do not expect anyone will believe me, but I know that my dreaming life is as real as my waking life. Indeed, I have learnt not to call these sleeping narratives anything other than a different part of my reality.

When I first encountered the entity that appears on the towpath I was afraid for She seemed hardly human to me. I had gone little by little into this dreaming place over the course of twenty years, and I had explored it almost wholly. I do not know what my encounter with this lady means, I intend to find out.”

With She Christine Murray explores the spaces between waking and dreaming, that we all inhabit yet are so rarely revealed to us in this day and age. Part shaman part Sybil,she takes us on a Jungian odyssey to meet the archetype that stands at the crossroads of birth and death, one whom we are all destined to encounter sooner or later.

Thanks to Dave Mitchell at Oneiros Books, To Michael McAloran, and to Anastasia Kashian who painted her beautiful cover.

Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.

2 responses to “Opening”

  1. Greetings, C. Murray. I really like how your poem flows like the waters of a brook on a windy spring day. I will follow your blog from now on. I am an amateur dark poet published a few times. I would like to work with you in the future if this interests you. You can find me here > Dead Devil’s Ink (, Thank you.


    • I am resting at the moment, having brought out three books and a chapbook in swift succession, but I will surely look through your work when I get some free time.


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