Larks above the Mist (part 5)

My way runs through a beech wood where the trunks

Stand like the ritual way, leading me

Down naves of skybound columns, canopied

In shimmering gold, entwined with ivy polished

And patterned like the snaking armlets, cast

Cut and burnished for the goddess' praise.

As stars appear and the new moon rises

I set a bothy for the long night's rest

Stacking branches and the lying moss

To keep the wind from chilling me too far,

Warm beneath the wolf-skins and the furs

Of squirrel, ferret, weasel and black mole.

Day break, and the mist which lay unmoved

Has vanished, though the sky above's still grey

And the wind which dropped as the night fell

Cuts keenly as I break my fast, before

I start my last day towards the continuence

Of sacred streams and this long ridgeway path.

The country here is changed, the copses, filled

With fir and ash, darker and denser set

Between the open downs where herds still roam

Or race across the open headed moor.

A flurry of finches bobs from hedge to hedge

Keeping a gentle distance from my face.

Unseen above, thee larks seem to mock

A kite hovering, hungered after days

Of mist which kept him from his prey

Lurking, preening in the autumnal fields.

Two thousand starlings flow silent across

Then lift to murmur in the evening light.

A wood so full of rooks, the trees could be

Alive, but one by one they rise and circle

Silently until the sky is darkened

By their flight, and all the noise is stilled, 

As they cloak the evening with their wings.

The pathway drops toward the valley floor

Where the river weirs and shallow runs

Allow a crossing even at full flood.

Epona, life of every stream

Pike & perch, trout and bream,

Sanctify our watery ways.

Here beside the shrine I break the axe,

Cast it in silence far across the flood

To vanish in the water's broken edge,

As if it had never been, and I

Who cast it, will as quickly disappear

To leave no trace .....

Epona, Goddess of the night

Moon and starry points of light

Sanctify the dark today.

Brian Hick October 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 5.10.24