December Ravens
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By onemorething
- 1986 reads
This late December, it rained again,
and despite the morning's first silvery light,
the day could only respond in steely darkness.
But it is the dead of winter, I said, and
the ravens threw their heads back and laughed.
What rot and dearth! Bistered leaves scraunch
and fulch their decay at the edges of things,
nurse the seeds of a future Spring,
its early dawns nurtured there in death,
we just can't sense it yet, not yet.
So we brood in this season of exile
with its gaudy baubles
and glittered faith.
Let the draugr come, we say,
full of black clouds,
from his barrow, and
claws like a kattakyn,
he reeks of carcass,
here to lust-feast upon the bleak
with the birds in their midnight clothes.
A time of thwart, we honour it
in our many rituals of sadness.
A draugr is a revenant. Sometimes referred to as cats (kattakyns) in Old Norse.
Image is from here: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bosch,_Hieronymus_-_The_Garden_of_Earthly_Delights,_central_panel_-_Detail-_Raven.jpg
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Comments
An inspiring poem with the
An inspiring poem with the essence of nature in December.
Jenny.
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Beautifully melancholic with
Beautifully melancholic with a hint of hope - although I can always sense a change as soon as the solstice is done, can't you? Might be wishful thinking though
Also I had never heard the old Norse for cats before - it's wonderful!
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I hadn't thought us honouring
I hadn't thought of us honouring darkness with sparkly decoratations, rather defying it. But you made me think about this time of year, the "dead of Winter" being like a person and the baubles being grave goods, like the gold in barrows. Draugr is a horrible word, it seems mutilated somehow, the gr at the end, yet harsh as well. I liked how your Ravens laughed at the thought of death, as of wildness they know it is a necessary stage of life continuing - without death, life would be changeless and inconsequential , so truly dead
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a December poem of the North
take me there to see it, feel it, hear it, smell it, live it.... yep*..... the 1morethng gravity-magic did it again..Thx
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Absolutely wonderful piece
This sums up the season so well, grey days, cold days, windy days. The depressing nature of things at this time of the year.. No wonder we feel the need to celebrate it's passing. I'm sure my ancesters relished joining the party at woodhenge in it's heyday.
If this doesn't get chosen as poem of the month I'll eat my hat (as they say)
thank you for posting this!
loved the Bosch detail. He and Peter Breugal are two of my favourite artists
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This wonderful poem is our
This wonderful poem is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day!
please share/retweet if you enjoy it as much as I did
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A revenant indeeed, what the
A revenant indeeed, what the corvine's know, we all know thanks to your words Spring is near.
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"But it is the dead of winter
"But it is the dead of winter, I said, and
the ravens threw their heads back and laughed."
There's that inner dialogue and, yes, a sense of melancholy. The language used makes it all so credible and authentic. Paul
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I do like it when someone
uses the colour "bister".
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Congratulations, this is our Poem of the Week December 30 2022
Excellent writing. Well done. That's why it's our Poem of the Week.
[Please share on social media ABCTalers!]
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