Hamsa

 

Hamsa, magical one,

 

Mystic bird,

 

Eyes of gold fire,

 

You rode upon the wave,

 

The cosmic courses

 

Of ancient, shining times;

 

You walked amid the owl-sung light

 

Of the fairy tree,

 

By the tall, moon-shifting

 

Hill,

 

You saw the walls of shimmering stone –

 

The sacred lamp-lit cave,

 

Where the ancient, bent ones still

 

Lingered ever on,

 

Their gods too old to be remembered,

 

Times of other worlds and climes,

 

When the air sang in a haze

 

Of sparkle flown

 

Like dragonfly wings that whirred,

 

Translucent.

 

You recall the bright winters of yore,

 

So long before

 

The ashen day when

 

The armies of the stalking skeleton

 

Broke onto the red field,

 

Sweeping all with their dire

 

Iron gaze,

 

Where now the star-cast

 

Bell that pealed

 

From the green mountain?

 

Hamsa, you are the swift-unfolding wings of light,

 

The tales softly-singing,

 

The warm face of the sun

 

Hamsa, where have you gone,

 

To what far, dawn-

 

Lit land?

 

And when will you return again,

 

Radiant, with fast,

 

White-

 

Maned horses,

 

Exultant,

 

As the rose of spring,

 

On the glad-rushing winds of eternity?

 

© 2014, Sharon St Joan

 

Photo: Marek Szczepanek / Wikimedia Commons / This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.