- martindukes
The Song of Ohbrid (Part Three)

This are the last words in my WiP ('That which the deep heart knows'). The theme is of life, death and renewal, describing the relationship between the Maiden (later to be known as Earthmother), and Zah (later to be known as Skyfather), part of the Erenori creation legend. The Maiden succumbs to Zah's wooing and from their union Tio is born, completing the Trinity of Godhead, which students of comparative religion will know, is a concept that long pre-dates Christianity. The poem is written in a style inspired by my favourite Romantic poet, John Keats, and particularly by his epic poems, Endymion and Hyperion.The book is now complete but I need to run it through the editing process a few times before submitting it to my publisher (the wonderful Jane Murray of Provoco Publishing) to see if it's any good!
The Song of Ohbrid-Part (trans. Eudokios)
The earth lies cold and dark beneath the night
And flowers hold their petals in repose,
To turn their questing faces to the light,
When dawn shall paint the lilies and the rose.
But now the Maiden dreams within a glade,
Her hair entwined with fragrant myrtletine,
Embracing every heavy-scented braid
That frames the slumb’ring countenance divine.
The coming dawn now tinges eastern sky
And treads the further shores of her domains,
Advancing to surmount the mountains high
And overspill to flood the darkling plains
The Maiden stirs and looks towards the skies,
Where Zah comes rising brilliant in the east
And tilts her face and shades her peerless eyes
To see the surly grip of night released.
He steps down from his chariot with pride,
His warmth and glory shining all around,
To plump the wheat and warm the furrows wide,
His radiant brow with golden sun beams crowned.
The Maiden feels a heat within her breast
And says, ‘How much I mourn when you are fled,
To see your chariot sink into the west,
Your ruddy immolation as you tread
The shining path that circles both our thrones.
I mourn to see the shadows growing long
And feel the chill night gather in my bones,
Lament your dismal passing in my song’
Says he, ‘it is my pleasure to ascend
The azure heavens that encircle all
To look upon your face is to transcend
The bounds of joy, and hold my heart in thrall
So do not take the lily for your wreath,
Despair not at the dying of the light,
Or set your face to anguish or to grief,
For surely does the day succeed the night.