The Dark Quarter (Poem)

Falling now slowly,
pulled to that far shore,
when light ever lowers
rises tales told of yore.

Awake not to rote tasks
but to still clearer dreams,
golden colors now cloak us
as the sun’s warmth it wanes.

Slip further coddled
into earth’s last caress
as the mind’s gate too drops,
spirits seek their egress.

Hosts hold court
obscured to mortal men
as morseled moments,
shards of potential,
now spin.

Grows colder and darker,
this kingdom complete,
its last transformation,
barren and clean.

Our land lies stripped
as we huddle for life
but the promise is pregnant—
the return of the light.

Riders outside are howling
as we feast and seek warmth
‘round hearthstones and fires
to tell evermore

Stories of ancients
and heroes and kin;
children’s eyes light with wonder
as their own stories begin.

Snow falls and covers
the virginal earth
to nourish her mysteries
and promise rebirth.

We look out and wonder,
then gaze back to the tree,
that pole through our home,
weaving joy and mystery.

Tonight I and my forebears
and descendants are one,
in this timeless space
furthest from the sun.

Though darkest and longest,
this star-crowned night,
our shared dream now abates,
we return to the light.

After I was asked to record a reading of this poem by Volk Dissident and we consulted a bit, he created this terrific video with his original music.

Complete archive can be found on the Poems page.

Painting: The Yule King (Green Man), by Michael Kerbow

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