Mother Earth
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He grudges Dawn its gracious light,
the dance defying dark of night.
Her fleeting tread is flickerred red,
and wakes the world to waxing bright.
The Dawn is cool when day is new
and soothes the clouds with subtle hue.
The morning Sun, her march begun,
above the veiled vaults of blue.
Then homeward wends the hostage wife
to lightless halls, to lurking life,
A haunted bride by husband's side,
by clan betrayed to cleanse the strife.
In younger days ere yoke of age,
ere duty formed her dismal cage,
in deepest darks she danced with sparks,
ere came the wrath and killing rage.
Her acts and dreams were intertwined;
she spoke her spells and space designed.
Her gifts she brought; her goal she sought:
achieve a realm of changeless kind.
The Mother ruled her molded land;
and waits her Daughter, watchful stand.
The Father sails, as fate assails,
his silver visage soothes the strand.
Where Sun had seared the seas of wheat
where moors and mistrs and mountains meet.
from cloven halls on cliffs and falls.
her Brothers hunted, brave and fleet.
The Brothers of the brooding Dark,
the Fathers of the fighters stark,
that left their might, the Lake and Height,
and met the Mother moist and dark.
Whence rivers gore the writhing hill,
receptive plains the surging still;
but waters hurry in winter's fury
and granite pebbles grind and mill.
The Mother fled the flame and might,
the blinding sky, the bleaching light.
She hid in caves and hollow graves,
to safely rule in secret night.
The Brothers crossed by bridge and fords;
and fell upon the farms and hoards.
The winters wait, the wars abate.
They lay their law on land and lords.
Though lost were years, the legends stay:
the ancient war is chanted lay.
An infant son when anger won,
he sets aside what sires say.
In fearless youth when fervour leaps,
he seeks the treasures silence keeps
in chambers chilled where chanting stilled,
where bleaching bones and bleakness sleeps.
The heathen treasures hold his mind
and drive his will to dare to find
the mirror of stone where mountains groan
below the fields light defined.
In light defied were lain the scrolls
of sacred secrets; savage souls
the Mother taught with mystic thought,
where glared their eyes like glowing coals.
He left the light and laughter clean
and stumbled on the stones unseen.
He walked beneath the wold and heath;
there minions mock in mirth obscene.
Though some might say the silence bred
from shadows drear the shapes of dread,
the pale wights have pupal lights
in caverns black and clays of red.
A haggard king with hungerred sigh
awaits the one who wanders nigh.
With royal robe and ruined globe,
this phantom casts a fearful lie.
The King of dark, the King of dreams,
whose witherred wealth is wasted schemes.
The lord who fades, the liege of maids,
who sets their tides in silverred beams.
The seeker sees the seeming sage
foretelling death and twisting age.
The youth perceived what years had weaved,
how time insists and turns the page.
The panic of the passing years,
the futile hopes and haunting fears
beget a wall so gray and tall
It kills the joys and coming cheers.
The Queen, amused, in quiet power,
will draw the son to darkenned bower.
Her face is fair, her fragrance rare,
with woven webs for wayward flower.
A soft caress could save his mood,
from fruitless wolds to friendship wooed,
but trust betrays and trueness flays;
he stares with eyes gone stony hued.
The Queen who loves, the Queen of life,
the Queen who straits, the Queen of strife,
with gasp of death or gift of breath
she brings the choice of birth or knife.
She yearns to feed on force of youth,
to claim his strength with claw and tooth.
she wants to rise, to wend from lies,
and meet again the morning's truth.
In mirrored maze he met the Mother,
the lost and breathless, lonely Brother.
Both crone and child, now crying wild,
her clinging clay will clothe and smother.
Consumed and spent and soon discarded,
the helpless son of hope unguarded
is sacraficed, by song enticed;
his etching woe is unregarded.
The Mother leaves the maze of doubt,
to bathe in breezes born without.
From dark to dawn on dewy lawn,
the light relieved her longing's drought.
From east to west the eager Dawn
extends her touch in tinctures drawn
from iris, rose, and aster glows;
and dips her wings as does the swan.
The winter ceased its weary grip
when soft and sudden sunbeams slip
and etch away the ice and gray,
with life to soul and song to lip.
The echoed clouds in evening line:
a thunderstorm is threatenned sign.
The Brothers brood their bristling mood;
the heavens fade and hueless shine.
Where walks their Brother wan and lone
who marched from halls of marbled stone?
The Brothers brood their bristling mood;
their anger grows till air will moan.
He left the light and laughter clean
and stumbled on the stones unseen.
He walked beneath the wold and heath;
betrayed by hope to truth obscene.
His hands are cold and heart is hot;
the sudden sounds assault and knot.
The shadowed glooms are shapeless dooms.
He dreads the lessons demontaught.
The fire surges, fills his veins;
the red and black, the blaspheme reigns.
With flash and spark, he flails dark,
and curses phantom cavern banes.
The fire cools and fear returns;
his step is weak and stomach churns.
The spectres spell in speeches fell;
their hatred hounds and horror burns.
His hands are shaking, hard in rage,
and beat the bare and brutal cage.
His eyes are red, his ire dread.
He gores the ghouls and ghostly mage.
In fear and anger, faith's despairs,
he peers within the Pit that snares,
the mother night, the muted plight.
Abandon hope and burdenned cares.
He teeters ere it takes his soul
as phantoms tone their fatal toll.
They crowd with jeers and crafted leers.
He seeks the peace the silence stole.
The silent voices sing ashamed
of love betrayed and laughter maimed,
of sorrow's reap, of sins too deep,
of slipping hours sleep has claimed.
Beauty and the Beast
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