Reply To: Basic task

#13297
Summer De Graffham
Participant

Deepwater dog diving down to the Dark
Snicker snack teeth, then bubbles and bark
Her Truth is the fate of fierce backhanded welt
As she lay on the bank being skinned for her pelt.

Her gaze held; dimming fast her soul done
Evaporating away as I leaped for the sun
Swap scales for feathers, skylarking flyer
I matched Knowledge to Wisdom and Pheonix fire
Universe spirals, the playground of Gods
Timeless, ancient as tracks of deer trods
Singing my joy in an opal glazed skies
Wind slicing wings reached etherial highs
Eloquent grace I made good my escape
Far below earth-man continued to rape
Future was Past and Present was Now
I saw with my Soul the health of Man`s cow!

She is an eagle, she flies from a tether
Attached to his arm is a thick glove of leather
A toy for amusement, a regal disgrace
Queen of the air out of time out of place
Whispers of wind as she slices the air
Talons miss judge tail by the breath of a hare
A dive from the skies pursuit across heather
Sweet bee crusted purples, Glorious 12th weather
Her Truth is the fate of a shot splitting air
Her crime? A raptor…. just being there

Her gaze held; dimming with pain,
No flying free over grouse moors again
Queen of the birds, her predators curse
A trophy, a gift lining a gamekeeper`s purse.
I hid in plain sight in Lughnasadh corn
As inwards my conscience did wail and mourn
The wanton destruction of beauty and grace
No veil on my eyes. No hidden disgrace
Safety in millions of similar clones
I relaxed, drew breath, tapped ancestral bones
Blood met blood as ash met ashes
Spectral memories with new age clashes
For I was alone in an ocean of sand
What difference could be made with the wave of one`s hand?

She was a hen, as black as wet pitch
Will I ever be free of this Samhain Witch?
Domesticated, oppressed and grossly misused
As a hen she is valued by what she produced
Scratching the ground but not scratching the Earth
Her nails were ragged, sterile children unbirthed
A hot sliced half beak to peck at the corn
Wing stubs featherless by her side hung forlorn
Her Truth is the cries of creatures worldwide
Songs mankind suffocates, ignores and denies
Her gaze held; she pounced and I dissolved into Wonder
Out of Time out of Place, witch’s womb, safe from plunder
There I spun in the realms of the free
Singing songs of lost Truths, riddling the Sidhe