First one up, the whole world on my shoulders
The embers of yesterday’s fire still emitting its glow
I shake it up, another stick to rekindle my inner desires
Hidden flames once dormant, now relish the new day’s activities
Duty meets passion, the creative touch of hand and heart
The hours pan out, senseless to the real flow of energy
As wood turns to ash, and ash to soil, so the winds stir up another spirit
The death on one leads to the birth of another, its name is mythicpoetic
Ride on, wind up, the journey is a hero’s welcome
Ride up, wind on, the land undulates to reveal its person
Its many folds take the rider through a blurring scene
Its face just a memory of countless dreams
The setting sun has disappeared among her breasted fort
The road meanders as a snake to its den
But in that dappled shade beyond the crest of a hill
I see it a second time from a dimple of her flesh
Second sunset, second sunset diminishing beneath the sea
As if passing away the time it quenches the day’s flight
Dragging with it a gusty wind that cools the skin of the land
As nature draws in, her silhouette is a night-blackened tan
Why, from this ancient spot upon her prostrate navel
I, emrys stood in full view of her boundless verdant scape
Reaching up at every turn of my wispy view
But then taken up in the cradle of her bosom sucking
Looking around into the void
Space is a frozen reticulate scene
Positioned I am in the middle of time
Stationed my vision to see from within
The colours were bright, all angular in sight
I turned on a point to capture the light
Everything fused, the dusk before dark
I made up my mind to follow a line
Deeper and deeper I cut like a cleaver
Carving and moulding a world for believers
A place of my own, a zone all alone
Beyond the dimensions of human retention
God in creation, the God of Redemption
Death is passing me flowers in heaven
Born to a throne so fine does it shine
I take my position to state the conditions
Everyone heeds the word of the Tree
An elder as high the mountainous sky
Risen in deed and spreading his seed
I take me a virgin to sanction a purging
Heave I will into her Holy of Holies
The land will tremble and rattle its temple
A snake through her chasm to enrapture a spasm
Shaken right down to reveal a new haven
My utterance reverberates the walls of her cavern
A single deep note so incredibly remote
Plutonic and sonic it pierces with fierceness
To raise upon a dais the most awesome enforcement
The seas will rise and rivers will prize
The banks will tear under the surge of an heir
Give me light, I give you might
Like no other to rule all nature’s fare
I live in this world through day and night
I find myself among the chosen few
I reside on a rock that reaches to the sky
And find myself on a shaft of light
I am a wolf, I am an arrow, the hunted deer, the bull of a target
The predator, the prey, the moss on an alder
My feet are wet with the travel of rain
My hair a mat of twigs and disdain
In tooth and claw I was bourn on her back
All nature produced me to widen her tract
To regain what has been lost to the men of feign
Desdcended are they from the families of Cain
I grew to the size of a colony of honeybees
And bred on the wing a sweetness for insurgency
A thousand stings to the temples of perdition
A thousand drones to the tune of sedition
You are not what you seem Old man of the gean
Your fruit is still green Like the mind that you wean
You nurture revolt Like the insatiable goat
Who’s cry is consort With a brazen throat
I chopped down the ash to embody me a handle
To wield with the fervour of a barbarous vandal
With metal I sharpened the edge to a tinker
To cut through the mire of Babylon’s bingers
The holly bore me a hand with a pang of deliverance
To curtail from the land the offending officiants
She bore me a prick with a poignant remittance
To go into humanity like a scourge unto pittance
I blew me a scream from the wood of hornbeam
To the slaughter of man upon the altar he shams
His blood feeds the soil in revenge and spoil
To replenish the earth from Mammon’s unrelenting toil
Into the darkness I ventured within a mangle
Amid the lianas where men are hung and strangled
Caught up they are in the vines of their vices
No rest for them as they struggle against reprisal
I festoon myself in the clothing of evergreen armour
Tending to the needs of the budding seedling farmers
Who march in droves from their sacred oakley groves
To trample down a succession of foreign hordes
And in that most quiet place where the yew casts its face
I bend me a bough that is strung with a vow
To cast upon the assailants of my Gallic verdant glades
A death as promiscuous as the rape of my virgin vales
MerlynX