The Angel's Fee
The rivers are one
And we drink of them as so
But the true question is
How far do you wish to go
Cradled by the earth
Risen from burning coals
Life flows in
A secret that the water holds
Flowing through our lands
Sleeping dormant in our veins
The power of the ancients
Show themselves when it rains
For Nature is our keeper
To her we will unfold
When all fire dies out
It is to her our soul is sold
To each of us Light is bestowed
But it is borrowed not to be owned
One part of her own soul
To each life she has loaned
And when the time has come
When the crops yielded all to thee
The Reaper serves her well
And collects the angel’s fee
From the moment of birth
Life becomes a hunt
Chases are the wet stone
That sharpens the knife from blunt
Take heart in its power
To give you what you need
For if it is true life you seek
Then you must cut in from a seed
You can not escape the cycles
The turning of the time
But you can chase the Reaper
And I will tell you the secret in this rhyme
If you wish death not to seek for you
It is in the end that beginnings are made
You must hunt the hunter
And keep the toll not paid
For it is through the cycles that he travels
Numbering the days
If it is a straight line we travel
The end of the road everyone pays
In the darkness do we find light
In light do we find the dark
Because the two are connected
A pine can wear its bark
For out of the dark it has risen
To the sun it shall go
One thing it has not forgotten
Are the lessons of the old
For each of us has fallen
And from the decay more is reborn
But our life is but a memory
Etched in the hunter’s horn
So for eternal life
I can give you none
But if the cycle is complete
Then the end has just begun
This is a revised version of the Chronicles of a Bard that I summited to the Eisteddfod. I think I tried to get a little too creative with the first one and got off point with the poem. This is just one in a series of works that I am trying to get out of me to sum up my Bardic lessons.
