The wild wood

Another blog that people who like mine might like – if you see what I mean.

From Hill to Sea

Beyond the Hawthorn

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Beyond the hawthorn, lies the wild wood

“cuckoo, cuckoo”

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over the threshold

forms and colours

of the Otherworld

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… snake-eye stirs

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jaw click, snout

and a slither

of tongues

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threat or supplication?

paw or claw?

who  hears the cry

of the wild wood?

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no-one here

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anyone?

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the oracle

of the wood

whispers:

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… always the leaves

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Invitation to the light

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… always the light

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 ≈≈≈

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Hawthorn bushes and the call of a cuckoo conjure up the tale of Thomas the Rhymer a thirteenth century Scottish mystic, wandering minstrel and poet. Folklore tells of how Rhymer meets the Faery Queen by a hawthorn bush from which a cuckoo is calling. The Queen takes Rhymer on a journey of forty days and forty nights to enter the faery underworld.  Some versions of the tale say Rhymer was in the…

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