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Wild Hunt

By , Vassalboro, ME
The moonlight spills down
Setting the field aglow
The night’s glittering crown
Shaped like the arch of a bow

The clearing is quiet
Heavy and deep
All creatures are silent
In summer night’s sleep

The cold streams babble
Singing a song of the heart
Soothing all those who dabble
In the pagan art

I stand alone
My gaze on the skies
Drinking the night into every bone
As waters of sorrow drip from my eyes

I feel nothing
My heart seems still
I’m barely breathing
Locked in the chill

No one stands by my side
Weak with longing for heat
Kept standing by pride
I force my very heart to beat

Something stirs in the night
I look to the trees
Frozen with fright
Snarling at my trembling knees

A flicker of white
Stark against the black
Then lost from my sight
Down the ominous track

They say the path’s haunted
Tortured by ghosts
The living are taunted
By the dead’s cold boasts

I wish to go near
This tormented spirit
I fight against fear
Like a horse at the bit

I take my first stride
On the forest’s path
And for my pride
Feel its cold, deadly wrath

I see up ahead
The white glimmer once more
And in the mud bed
Over a footstep I pour

A booted print in the mud
Up ahead I hear a neigh
My curiosity begins to bud
Who is my mysterious prey?

I walk forth once more
My eyes stretch wide
But according to lore
These creatures have no need to hide

On a breath of air
I hear them speak
Listening with great care
I follow death’s reek

I come to the body
Covered in moss
He must have been naughty
To be burned with a cross

It’s a warning to all
To those who act on a whim
Never follow a blind call
Else you’ll end up like him

I walked down the road
In the dark of the morrow
Shoulders heavy with the load
Of the forest’s sorrow

I heard a neigh
From the path ahead
The trees seemed to sway
Roots buried deep in their bed

I walk onward
My determination fierce
To catch what I was walking towards
A resolution no fear could pierce

I walked into an open space
Astounded by what I saw
The Wild Hunt does pace
On claw and hoof and paw

The leader of the Hunt
A wild god named Herne
Father of the witches’ front
And all those who burn

Mounted on a fierce black steed
He rode up to me
All others followed his lead
As he asked of me the fee

To ride in the pack
To me He said
For horse and tack
You must pay the Lord in red

I bowed my head
And opened a vein
On my blood He fed
The others on my pain

That is the price
Said the Forest God
As I feed on this spice
So do all my children abroad

Now you are bound
We’re your sisters and brothers
You will always be found
By your father and mother

We will always love you
Fall, winter, summer, and spring
Though those of the family are few
Safety and acceptance we will always bring

I fell to the ground
And bowed my head
By Him I was found
And would follow wherever He led

Come, my child
The Forest God said
Time to ride in the wild
On the leaves of red

They brought forth to me
A horse of the purest white
And in the shape of a tree
On its side was marked in black of night

Lifted astride by Herne
Though its height was the least
I would soon learn
This was no tame beast

To His lips Herne lifted the horn
And my heart did leap
As I, target of other’s scorn
Followed the Hunt on wind’s sweep

The stars above us flew
Pure white light icy cold
I knew all my hopes to be true
The fragile, dark, and bold

My mare plunged and ran
Her nostrils wide
Moving faster than any mortal can
Heat pulsing from her hide

I follow Herne, our master
Surrounded by the other witches
As we galloped faster and faster
Better then all the world’s riches

We chased a man
A killer of witches
He ran and ran
His back bloodied by our switches

We caught him
And with knife and blade
An ocean of blood he did swim
For all the death he made

Back to the clearing we rode
And from my mare’s back I slid
The seed of hope sowed
In what I next did

I went to Herne
And when we kissed
Then I did learn
That I would be missed

When the night began
I was a simple girl
Then with the Hunters I ran
And my life changed in a whirl

I am a Child of Earth
Her protector, Her blade
She protected Man’s birth
And now the price must be paid

Their mother Man seeks to kill
But the Hunters of Herne
Under His iron will
Assure that of retaliation the killers will learn

The Hunter’s Training
I have begun
Even if my blood the sky is raining
I will become a Guardian.





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