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Weihnailiuþis (Song of Weihnai)

Dappled Things

Mikaela D’Eigh

I left behind
My quills and scrolls
And tapestries of yore
To find their tale
Lived true and strong
By tested heart and pure.

These birches tall
These maples fair
Beneath their green-eyed gaze
I dreamed my dreams
Of heroes past
Reliving ancient days.

What sudden chill
From deep within
As Autumn’s leaves away?
Here have I walked
How far, how long
In Winter’s dark embrace?

I pause to look
And turn around
To see a wondrous sight:
Behind, the Fall,
Her leaves still brown.
Before, the Winter’s white.

Yet yonder light
Touches my soul
And pulls me closer still.
And stranger sound
I ne’er have heard
So high, so dark, so shrill.

In hope and fear
I wander on
To seek its shining end.
Its mournful notes
Play at my heart,
Its echoes deep within.

The last leaf turns
And lightly falls,
A snowflake white and cold.
Its cousins fly
About, around
The ruins, majestic, old.

And here the song
Grows louder till
At last our voices meet.
And at the door
A brave knight stands
Alone and incomplete.

Who is this man
Who stands so tall,
Yet sorrow stains his soul.
A soldier true
A warrior strong
Who gave his king his all.

Shoulder to shoulder
Brother and son
They fought to keep the lands
Family and life
Daughter and wife.
They fell to crimson hands.

Adrift, bereft
Of kith and kin,
He’s all that’s left behind.
Now here he stands
A ghost? A man?
An exile out of time.

Closer we walk
Deeper the snow
Wind whipping ‘round the stones.
Heart beats in fear
The dream will end
As fingers clasp my own.

Notes linger on,
End in a sigh,
As life and lore embrace.
I feel his arms,
I hear his voice,
I gaze upon his face.

Seated beside
My quills and scrolls
And tapestries of yore,
I trace the tale
As snowflakes dance
Outside my cottage door.

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Filed Under: Lent/Easter 2006, Poetry

Mary, Queen of Angels 2020

Purchase Featuring nonfiction from Joshua Hren, fiction from Jennifer Marie Donahue and Rob Davidson and the winners and honorees of the Bakhita Prize in Visual Arts.

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