The Waypath, Ablaze
The waypath to home is a treacherous passage
An unforgiving, exiled way whose runes
Etched in a fragmented, forgotten language
Is the only sure guide to deliverance;
Yet some million years before, an intrepid magician
Could carve stone from sand and shift the mighty mountain
Having beside him the rowan wand and will-to-good
Pairing the flame with its rightful fury,
Rising the phoenix from its maddening fire
Quenching the alms of the insignificant flare
Some many million years anon,
Many gathered souls took to the path with the rowan tree
Many by quest or adventure, others in silent seeking of fortune
Each child blessed by the wishes of a divine ruler
And imbued with the lantern of the Hermit’s plight
Following the upward bending trail evermore
Inlaid with footfalls of the fallen and the remnants of an oath
Persevering was this younger crew, longing to meander as the water
Like a headless soldier marching blindly on
Yet they could not know
The guardian beast that await them was fleeting
Their journey a sacrifice held only in vain
For the children were born with eyes to watch the forest ablaze
The dark wave of inferno whose shadow is sickly and strong
And rises the midnight moon in bloody iridescence
Those helpless hands trembling, reaching for the elder folk
But your feet trod bravely upon this ageing earth
Bound to its promise of secret and speciality
Falling to their dusty palms and wept
And the children spoke within themselves
In a divine communion with the many facets of their being
To collect our flasks of strength and will to travel
Discard our rations, lantern light and bag of exhaustless spirit
Soon, their courage succumbs to doubt; even the strongest warrior
Crestfallen
Knowing that from their sticky birth,
Breaking the fragile webbed cocoon and led by the light of Genesis,
We are either to wither or to be wild – let us embrace the latter
So the bark of elder woods wept and rejoiced in selfsame harmony
For it saw the destruction put upon its settlement
And yet turned its face to the young ambition, radiant
An army of assured steps traversed the charred carpet earth,
Once a home and mother to many smaller things
And saw as angels who departed for hibernation, return to their post
Watching, guiding, weaving the strands of fate with a gentle lock of hair
And the elder woods passed on to allow for newer life,
Though their voices carried on the eastern wind evermore
And assumed the gentle encouragement of wisdom and wind for new travellers:
The brave, arriving children lifted from their knees and furthered on
In renewed faith of the bounty of life that await them.
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