The Hunter

The Forest, a silent place
Green cathedral, altar space
Frilly lichen, toadstool mounds
Spagnum moss' greening fronds
Mushrooms capped, pregnant spore
Bloom upon the humus floor
Spiders webs, each architect
A member of the Forest sect
Weave long skeins from silken spools
Borne by zephyrs, ruffling pools

Stealthily, the Unseen Suit
Rings the trees, makes to fruit
Deckled seeds, windy-borne
Buds of May to Fall's acorn
Carried on an unknown breeze
It passes over lime-touched trees
Breathes upon the curling leaves
Of bluebells, lady-sleeves
Then paints the berries jewelled hues
Pens the leaves with liney clues
Draws the juice from saplings silver
Feels them tremble, softly shiver
Sparks the brambles berried rapture
Laughing, foils human capture
Places fruit-nuts in their cases
Hides them in the easy places
Squirrels reach, birds alight
All the while, out of sight
The Unseen (so many moods)
Deep within the greeny woods
A Mystery be, a ghostly speech
Rippling past the clumsy reach
Of human ears
And unquiet human fears

In a clearing, comes then swift
A Beast, its movements spare and thrift
The Timberwolf, ever ware
Casts about for trap and snare
Knowledge in her topaz eyes
Of unqueen and kingly lies
Takes position, an ancient love
Of the stars that lie above
Tears a howl, long and sere
From her throat: 'Why am I here?'
Again this lonesome lunar child
In the Forests of the Wild
Calls to all the stars that be:
'Why hast thou forsaken me?
The echo round the circled trees
No answer gives, yet carries
Far beyond the forest clearing
To galaxies past earthly hearing
Where the heaven's timpanii
Sounds her soul's ancestry

Winter then with snows engulf
Sends to sleep the Timberwolf
Snow and ice tip and gloss
With crystals clear the forest moss
Quivering shrew, blinded mole
Hibernating mouse and vole
Bobtail rabbits, grey-lobed hares
Breathe as one with sleeping bears
Beneath the snowy canopy
Dreams of beasts multiply
Clawed and fanged hunters chase
Smaller creatures safely graze
Each and all as if but part
Of a single, beating heart


Beyond the Forest's mantled-rime
Fires are lit in human time
Skies at night, picked and scarred
Stars and planets diamond-hard
Shed their light on glowing faces
Lit by candles holy places
Past the smoke of festive cheer
Show the Star, touching-near
Of Bethlehem, by which 'tis said
Wise Men Three to Christ were led

Unseen of the Forest den
Know not the Fisherman
Nor grief, nor tears, nor human loss
Nor Cavalry, nor cypress Cross
Nor despair, nor agony
Nor know they of Gethsemane
Fated by the revenants
Of eons past, far events
Form and Shape strange endow
The changing stream of Here and now
With knowledge of what Part to play:
Hunter and fleeing Prey
Think the hunting She-wolf cold?
No place has she to thought unfold
'Tis mankind uniquely given
To both Sin…. and be Forgiven