“I think that we need mythology. We need a bedrock of story and legend in order to live our lives coherently.”
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,
as you stagger out of the dirt,
thin and pale from half a year
when you were denied the Sun.
o, sweet blossoming child,
tender, lovely, vulnerable.
As if half in drowse,
you falter towards the warm embrace of your
family, waiting to heal you
from your ordeal.
that you did
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,
back at the dirt from which you’d emerged.
Hungry girl, you and I know this secret:
They love Spring best, those who keep
A little Winter in their hearts.