“I think that we need mythology. We need a bedrock of story and legend in order to live our lives coherently.”
-Alan Moore
One more poem, to mark the coming of Winter – from an old piece of mine on the strange romance of Hades and Persephone. After this, it’s back to short stories for a while.
And I cheer with the rest of them,
pretty girl,
as you stagger out of the dirt,
thin and pale from half a year
when you were denied the Sun.
Disheveled, shaky,
o, sweet blossoming thing,
tender, lovely, vulnerable.
As if half in drowse,
you falter towards the warm embrace of your
family, waiting to heal you
from your ordeal.
You were
so untouched,
so innocent,
that you did
not realize
a few sucked seeds
would chain you to the bed
of a grim and merciless old man.
That’s the story they tell,
and I’d believe it, too –
if I hadn’t seen your eyes glance,
just once,
back at the dirt from which you’d emerged.
Fear –
…and longing.
Hungry girl, you and I know this secret:
They love Spring best, those who keep
A little Winter in their hearts.
_________
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