THE WOODMAN’S CALL
“Walk in this wood, and then your clear eye sees
the leafy spires and strange green light that’s made
from summer boughs of many brooding trees.
Your warm, alert flesh feels the cool, deep shade.
Softly the deer across your path will creep,
dappled as sunlight through the trees revealed,
and, as in fear, then suddenly she’ll leap
and in that dappled foliage be concealed.
Look up into the branches of that oak
and you will see the squirrel in her dray
- far off you scent the Woodman’s wafting smoke.
We twain must meet ere you pursue your way.
A small bird sings – a chime of elfin bells.
A golden stream meanders where you roam.
Follow these signs, and where the curlew tells
his plaintive song, there you will find my home.
You are a loner, curious of mind;
I am the vision of your bright-eyed youth.
You are a lover, passionate and kind.
You trust that all will listen to our truth.
But I know well – encircling us about
are spirits in the crevices of grey,
and some of them are evil to the root,
and some are fair – but snare us in our way.”
A river god, he called to me when young.
Softly I tread within the halls of men.
I’ve learnt about the world – less well than some.
Where are the thoughts that I was thinking then?
“Far more than this, you sought to tell and find;
I was the vision of your bright-eyed youth.
Many are lovers, curious and kind
- and out of dappled dreams shall shine the truth.”