Herne
by Ophidianoir

Listen will you! Beneath the veneer of the concrete amplified
Clamour of dust dulled vehicles, factories repetitively churning,
Crowded voices bleating, gain gathering cabals constantly retried,
Is his call. Herne! Pause and consider this self denied yearning.

Return? To what? To masculine tussles for glory and power?
Is that not the conditions that have produced our present state?
Have not these constant ruts destroyed each tree, each flower
And resulted in an alienation that we have come to hate?

This can not be the nature of his call. Is it a plea?
A demand? A request for us to acknowledge the base
Foundation from which we sprung and now do flee.
The dark mirror, deep pool, silent cave we can not face.

For within his strength there lies a knowing compassion
That can paint us a canvas describing unified wills.
Acknowledgement of universal love and will can fashion
A certain panacea for societies self imposed ills.

Herne, lead me within my heart and mind.
Give me courage to face the fears I find.
Open my inner eye that has been long blind.
So that my gaze can rest upon thy lady.
For I am she and she is me.

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Herne © Copyright Ophidianoir 2006