Greenwoods 3: Waiting and Wedding

Elder brother waits

Hawk strong, memory and thought,

For clear signs, not hints.

Ardent-wolf plays true

To both his heritages

Puzzling both kindred

She, Alacrity,

grows to picture book beauty,

brown eyes and brown hair

second eve,maybe

prime person in this adventure

wins her two haikus

The woodlands enclose

As would protective lover,

Not yet with the bride

Miracles , though daily expected

If village gossip was any compass,

Arrived slowly and much disguised.

Not quite true that a parade of rabbits

Followed her home one night,

But true that one morning

She stood so still on forest fringe

That the warren fed before her feet,

Until wolf appeared and fed.

No balance here was broken

And no remorse was shown

Not quite true that Miss Alacrity Athena

Now lived in a tree and fed off nuts

But quite true that her room

Was filled with greenery and scents

Ill suited to old innocence

And where once the oaken tallboy towered

Now grew tall pots of wild spring flowers

Still went to church and prayed and smiled

And so time passed ,folk were beguiled

Into thinking this was the norm

And not precursor to a storm

One night, bewitched again by woods

She found herself on window sill,

Looking treewards ,and absently

Fed crickets to a passing little owl.

Saw, and by this you know a month has passed

Her elder brothers in that same moon track

Between bedroom window and her trees

And heard an elder brother say,

Quite clearly to his pelt gripped kin

Do that thing you do and flush him out

Or offer welcome whichever’s best,

If he is there, he will not flout

Our hospitality, no rest

She’ll get till all comes out.

Her guileful brother, she could see

Assessed the elder’s gravity

And with direct and pure intent

Slipped on pelt, to woodlands went.

Gone but half a minute and then back

Hackles raised but stubbornly in poise,

did that thing she couldn’t watch

and Ardent was there again

He comes brother

it seemed to her the shadow on the edge

for a moment became pure black,

then gathered round one large oak,

so dark that nothing could be seen within,

and then

for pity’s sake and then ?

Can you believe , in Gloucestershire, a bear ?

huge hugging cave bear

dark as the night

leaned back on its hindlegs

and rejoiced in its height

Ardent wolf changes

Protects brother with snarls

Little owl scrabbles in fear

Hides in her long hair

So close in feel to ivy

Elder brother laughs

A warm laugh

A welcoming laugh

And doubling up in disarming mirth

Shouts aloud

Is this the best that you can do ?

A Bear ? In England Now ?

Come come, show yourself,

You are a guest,

Do not seek to frighten us

That is no way to start a conversation

And Thought and Memory land

On shoulders and cackle too.

A blink again, owl scrabbles and is still

That thing you cannot watch

Happens again,

But not to Wolf,to Bear

And then a man stands there

A tall man and a handsome man

An ask you for dance ma’am, man

And young man and an old man

A neat, but truly wild haired man

A vile tattooed yet nice man

A muscley yet quite trim man

A braw man and a green man

A fierce and very green green-man

Alacrity, Owl, and potted plants all stare

And bow their head, beak, and stems.

Wolf howls low

Only elder brother does not quail

You are a King , but this is my Valley

State your purpose, honoured guest

His voice, if it was a voice at all,

Comes as low rumble of summer thunder

And all who heard it, felt relief

As if heat’s tensions at last breaks

And we will soon receive rain.

Think, bold explorer, of your wilderness

And think of what your sister might become

and if my season’s power allies

Itself with man, then describe

What man dare do that could defile

The earth he walks on ,would he try ?

I see no evil, only a heart’s wealth in this.

Smiles our Valley’s Keeper

And can see no wars progressing

From your proposal

And suspected it might be you all along

This abomination flushed me out

Indicating Wolf

Marred magic made him

Let him be spilt once more in twain

The rumbled thunder starts again

Earnest Shackelton, ValleyLord, grows huge,

And hawks, now raven seeming,

Appear as seconds for any fray

And I think I saw ash hafted spear

He has found peace within himself

And offers hope to any man

Who need to love and also kill.

He is you with teeth, not vines,

And he is her beloved brother

So beware that word, if bride you seek

I seek a bride for all our sakes

Stern response is sensed in trees ,in byres,

In Breakheart Warren and in sties,

A gathering green storm in skies

Wild leaves on wind are his reply

I cannot answer for her, says human kind

She is her own thing and her own girl

I cannot give her, she is not mine

She is more than just one precious pearl.

Before our Valley’s Eve can wed,

She must be woo’d, by you Green King

This is all that can be said

This is our world, no idle thing

She’s heard us now, and knows your name

so nature must bow down. I guess

She watches us now at this game

Perhaps she’s not at all impressed.

But green fingered girl with owl filled hair

and long brown locks and shining eyes

is already dancing down the stairs

towards the greenest of all lives

A stumble in invention

As world draw apart and I gasp in loss.

They have already met, and perhaps my fading grasp

Of all that I have seen and wrote

Is because the work is done,

That a second eve, delighting in love’s innocence

Will couple with the seasons force

And create, well, a thing that binds us all

A little closer to the earth

And to one another too

As people on this earth.

Wolf-romantic sits at Icey Jenny’s feet once more

Tail wagging in the snow like the bastard that she so loves

And Odin ,still soup fed at farmhouse table, sends messages

By thought and memory

To us all ,so we might not forget

His sister’s pact and her one love.

On maydays, and at equinox

You still may see this farmhouse

Up lonely lane past chicken farm

In the mist, and see candlelight

Amidst the ivy covered walls

As Loki, Greenman, Odin

Eve and Selene, sit down

As family in homespun clothes

Reflecting,much as Quakers do,

on what they do on earth

And how they came to be.

But not for too long do they so sit

As reflection and navel gazing breeds inertia:

There are crops to sew,

Weaving to be done,

Caribou and cows to milk

But before these tasks

Best of all

A dance,

with fiddles,oboes and guitars,

that starts indoors

and ends

under the stars.

All who pass may join in

I have packed my books and pen away

I hear them and am off up the hill,

Hey you, can you hear me

Over there

Race you

Race you

Race you there..