Once upon the verge of a dreary Yuletide
I walked out of town, upon the tide
of an inspired Hollyberried feeling!
Grasped by an undulating desire_
I rode my imaginings down back roads
where Yuletide spirits were careening!
Hounded by Master Mabon’s Black Dog[1]
I came – as so often – on the rippling fog,
to precipices of green & red revelations! 1
“And the Angels sang on
High
As
the sainted Elf came nigh,
Bringing giftings of
Wisdom for all!”
Mused in the magick of a late First Snow
I ventured with a hankering to know
the evergreen wisenings of Alban
Arthuan![2]
Stripped down to my last solar bark,
dying toward the sun’s last ebbing—
I found my way to the Falls I’d heard of
in a long-ago Christmass remembering!
Arriving, I witnessed a scene I’d dreamed:
an iced-over creek
wending down to Ross Falls! 2
“And the Angels sang on
High
As
the sainted Elf came nigh,
Bringing giftings of
Wisdom for all!”
I skated upon the blue ice-covered stream,
mirroring trout swimming beneath me;
holding their own against chilling currents.
Coming closer to the raging falls, I heard—
the sound of carolers intoning ancient songs
down in the little cleft beneath Ross Falls.[3]
Ever-intrepid I went
to the looming precipice
and_
peering down into the hidden vale
There I saw_
six singers of Yule’s revelations! 3
Dusk fell across the silent land as I listened,
taken-in by the powerful sedations of voices
harmonizing in the now endarkening dusk.
Standing between two firs that were swaying
in the resonances of unsatiated winds, I saw—
a Sleigh being pulled across a sapphire sky!
I swooned on my perch,
like
some Stag
perched on the verge
of flight! –
watching the arrival of the sleigh that I knew
was a dream within a dream I had dreamt. 4
“And the Angels sang on
High
As
the satiated Elf came nigh,
Bringing giftings of
Wisdom for all!”
Coming down within the little cleft it flew
with silent movement; like music on a mind,
landing close to where the carolers stood!
And when it alighted,
with no passenger or crew,
I knew I had missed the mystagogical advent
of the Olde Elf in his mystic-earthen glory!
A sack of goodies ‘twas stowed in the back_
ready for world distribution in Yulin’-time,
but no driver stood upon the old boards! 5
The absent one’s presence was disarming!
I felt it chill me, it was not at all charming;
casting a spell of that weighted sleigh o’er me!
So merrily I took up my mind to a Holly place
_wherein I en-joyed the scene and its Ivy grace,
until the runes of Wisdom were shown to me!
‘Twas then I heard the carolers singing in-tune
with a heartening greening in their voices—
and I – scarlet with anticipation – joined in! 6
“And the Angels sang on
High
As
the solemn Old Elf came nigh,
Bringing giftings of
Wisdom for all!”
It was as I joined my voice in the song
that a glamour fell upon the night so long
that I could have lived another day or two!
But died is what I did, and sank into mulch,
wherein carolers’ harmonies were humming;
gladdening a Yuletide Poet’s Homecoming!
Upon a Wheel I turned, as my old life I spurned,
kneeling into a Saunterer’s Pagan Solemnity,
Nicholas was there; present—hale
within me! 7
“Good Elf_” said I, from my mystagogic perch,
“how have you come here? Give me
a Word!”
Answering like a bird, he returned me his glare_
using my invitation to sing-song in rhyme!
A carol as old
as the stones upon the heath
he sang_ and I,
born again;
with the Spirit of Bards
investing me with the whole nine yards
of long-lost lore and baskets
full of the Apples of Yore—
I rose up,
between my two firs, bright and new! 8
“And the Angels sang on
High
As
the caroling Elf came nigh,
Bringing giftings of
Wisdom for all!”
The quick Olde Elf snapped his red fingers
conjuring up Nine Stag-like Reindeer!
Harnessing them to a sleigh were nine angels
of whom I’d never dreamt, there-to-fore!
They chanted as they went about their work,
and then gave the reins to the jolly old Elf
who pronounced thirteen magnificent words
of hope, whereupon_
he cracked his green whip—
and the team was off
all gone up
into the mystery-sheened heavens
once more! 9
Amen.
[1] Old
Mabon – also Maponus or Mabon ap Modron – refers to a Celtic dying and rising
god whose birth took place on the Winter Solstice. He is the puer
eternis and is associated with solar energy; dying and rising each year at
Winter Solstice. His is connected to
fire and the healing that comes from heat, light and fire. He restores to youth, is perpetually youthful,
and is related to the Irish god Aengus Og.
As I have encountered him in my own imaginative mythos, he is associated
with great hares of the Goddess – my Muse – and with a Black Hound; mentioned
here. I have a story of Mabon that I may
well post here after Yule.
[3] Ross Falls is an imagined place in Ross County, PA
that I have visited in verse a number of times over the years. For the first poem in the series, see my blog
“The Calling of Ross Falls” from 22 September 2018.
No comments:
Post a Comment