VERSE new & used
The Wizard and the Master
The wizard dreams
on his bed of moss,
while the stars wheel high above,
of an age now passed
and of courage shown
when hatred vied with love.
The master rose
and walked the paths,
looked up with a troubled eye.
For the stars were flown,
dark clouds took shape
and thunders shook the sky
The wizard twists
on his bed of moss,
as the Nazgul stalks his prey;
when the bravest deed
and the fairest hand
could not her loss allay.
The master raised
his song to calm
the sheets of lashing rain
into gentle tears,
and solace deep;
then silence fell again.
The wizard moans
on his bed of moss,
as the Mouth holds forth his token,
at the grinding fear,
and the promised pain;
but their spirits shine unbroken.
The master breathed
warm airs to ease
the Withywindle flow,
to wash away
the hurt of grief
in currents dark below.
Then the wizard stills
on his bed of moss,
and the dawn comes rain-washed blue,
and his dreams are turned
to a high stone field
where the seed of Nimloth grew.
“Wake now, my friend,”
the master spoke,
“Wake now and greet the day.
Your trials have passed,
your victory won,
all sadness flown away.”
The wizard rose
from his bed of moss,
and the gulls above him wheeled.
“Not all is gone,”
the wizard sighed,
“some hurts cannot be healed.”
Yet the wizard smiled:
“The deeds remain,
though the sun climbs high above;
and much was good,
in courage shown,
when hatred vied with love.”
The friends then left
this lawn of moss,
and climbed to the master’s door;
where they heard her sing,
as the Daughter strew
fresh rushes on the floor.
Wilf Jones Poetry
Nidaro Cathedral has moved to here
21/02/2012 wkj fantasy
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