One did I see in the wet woods bound
tall trees on both sides concealing
the wind ‘neath her wings
the songs that she sings
more fair than the sunshine revealing
.
Old tales I remember
from times long ago
of men who fought battles
and lived lives of woe
of men who sought maidens
with beauty unfading
the forebears of folklore
with tales yet untold
.
Out from the masses
a beauty once ventured,
many had sought
a face fair as hers,
necklaces had she
and rings of great value,
but nothing about her
was truthful he’d see
.
For heat,
nor motion,
nor goodly hue,
revealed what was hidden
till Light had pierced through,
where hope once had warmed
the heart of compassion
a crone from the depths had appeared
.
For up from the fires
rose a wide-seeing witch
soul it had not
and sense it presumed
once famous and fair
in all lofty fields,
now a hag
who with venom
the air had perfumed
.
On a crag
on a mountain
a poet sits broken
‘round him the wood birds crow
the grief in his heart
stay words not yet spoken
and goodness that evil had stole
.
He stammers in silence
with weariness brooding
he alone must acknowledge
his failures and fears,
on a crag
on a mountain
a poet prays softly
his thoughts are diluted with tears
.
Old tales he remembers
from times long ago
of men who fought dragons
and lived lives of woe
of men who sought maidens
with beauty unblemished
the forebears of folklore,
with tales yet untold
.
© richard lloyd cederberg
9/2024
      A NEW RACE OF HuMANS