When I Awoke Crying- A Poem
When I awoke crying but still in my bed,
with the dogs staring at me with a cock to their heads;
as if they were saying, "why are you weeping?
five minutes ago, you were sound asleep, dreaming!"
How right they would be, should this be the case,
for I was in fact dreaming of a man with no face.
A ruler of kingdoms and empires unfurled,
take the sword from the stone and inherit the world.
Of bonfires blazing- those wizards of light!-
pagan faces ablaze with the heat of the night.
with the thumping of drums and accompanying tune,
the shades in the trees and the howl of the moon.
A-whirling and a-twirling, strange hands tightly clasped,
'round that Beltane fire, and the scent of spring grass.
The man looks onto these celebrating ways with a deep-felt yearning
that belies his days;
no longer the Dragon, and replaced by the Cross,
a kingdom once powerful has all but been lost.
The figures continue dancing while remaining enthralled
with the night and the music and the magic of auld.
but alone in the castle, the man counts his faults
while thinking the truth- "the old ways are lost!"
A time of beauty and bliss and serene
the love of a people- a river, a stream.
for he reaped what he sowed and he sowed what he reaped,
that man in the castle, for whom I do weep.
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