On cold and desolate rocks, perched
In the far Celtic seas, Selkie’s song rose –
So hauntingly deep; Lamenting –
A once-human form, and the
Rusted Faithful Age,
Of a dead mythology
A scarred and salted pain, seeped
And echoed into every note –
Melodiously heralded
Across a dying and wasted Earth
Crossing glen, and loch, and sea…
Conjuring trapped spirits, jolted
From long-suffering nightmares, to
Traverse the skies like some
Ethereal glorious aurora
Old stone gods, overgrown in
Bracken and vine, opened
Concrete eyes – and wept –
For the first time in a thousand years
Druids, bereft of sickle and sandal,
Emerged from fossilized evergreen shades,
Adorned in Forgotten Ways of
Herb, potion and poultice,
Awakened by an ancient serenade
The Old World drew New Breath as
Forgotten myth awoke with such
Staggering intent, mere mortals
Shivered as they ignorantly slept…
Selkie sang, and the spirit of
Lonely fishermen, broke – tumbling,
Into the crashing waves of an angry tide,
Mourning and grieving, the loss –
Of a magic they could not recollect…
But with Selkie’s last breath,
Went all life of the Fae, until
The heart of a dead and wasted Earth
Was kindled, to beat again,
Another day.
