The Traveler

Wherein upon a darken road the path by which the traveler trode there amongst the guileless snow Alighten by moonlight’s o’er throw Lost among the recurring trees On last breath, and on his knees He took into him the cold grey night His death foreseen in by a distant light. On he slipped into humble death Absolving life in shallow breaths His eyes turned to the swollen moon Knowing death was all too soon. O’ here upon a darken road Amongst the trees and pallid cold He met the Maiden in mortal form Her eyes alight and pale skin warm. Her hair was gold as the finest thread On her feet she lightly tread To gather him up in her grace She kissed him lightly o’er his face. ‘O’ little child, O’ mortal man’ She whispered light as angels can ‘Be now still and close thy eyes, I’ve come to sever your earthly ties’ And when he gave a mournful sigh His body quiet in the snow-bank lye The Maiden took his ghostly hand To lead him to the spirit’s land. Away there from the darken road The Maiden and a spirit trode Away from a man, dead in the snow Past the yew in ancient row. ‘O’ gentle Lady, O’ gentle bride, Whilst you stay here by my side?’ And then she turned her face to him To him she looked, her lips drawn grim. ‘Alas, my love, my belov’d man, Only to your destiny that I can, Yet after that you start anew, But always know my love is true!’ And there he kissed her, his spirit guide And silent they went, side by side Through the night and then through light Until the sun did grant them sight. By morning in another land When now the earth was made of sand She said goodbye, and left his side For back again, the road she’d ride. His eyes he closed, deathly tight To shade him from a radiant light And there he lay, a new born babe Early born to greet the day. Aye, he heard the Maiden say Whispered in his ear this day ‘Yet after this you begin anew, But always know my love is true!’ ‘For today for you, my little one, The sun has risen brightly shone, And thus shall eternity, it will repeat, For the human spirit, yet incomplete. . .’