LEANING ON SHADOWS
Each one holding the other all angles
wondering in circles out of the bog
Each one minding not wanting for more tangles
Not wanting for headed oil slidden as log.
Now though these friends made to lie in green
no more wanting for rocks and horse and berried table
Now left to beaking vulture and scorning mien
no more cupping still waters beside tripping cable.
Then did friends cross arm and leg and ear and nose to rely
For succour of heart to bide and hide the eyed rod
Then did cloak with healing stripes of myrrh thereby
For resting in bone desired spilling guarding nod.
Soon GreyHorse circled the friends with staffing care
no more forsaking close treading besiding still
Soon sighing and byeing in sleep to tear
no more dreams from each heart softing in thrill.
Now shadows of old hopen smoothed the heads
for soon shadows trading in want would crawl
Now curls of legs and toes and twigs in beds
for rest in folding holding unseamed shawl.
GreyHorse smelled the dawn of day untold
when menlings and swordlings would cut the cords
GreyHorse knew had once led in peace unsold
when yet lambs by ewes were made lords.
Dreaming these friends moldered the paths
that morn crouching to show
Dreaming in flops so snuffled the olden lathes
that shape the morrow in glow.
Stumbling and stretching and blowing and yawning
new day to greet in mind of old vow
Scratching and squinting unseamed dawning
new way to scratch ever East ever bent in bow.
Leaning on shadows molded to hold
now toe, now hoof, now claw, now shoe
Leaning on shadows shaping to scold
now fallen, now risen, now holden to rue.
Leaning on shadows bearing arm and staff and shield
against side of GreyHorse straining to lighten
Leaning hearts in the rising light enflaming field
against side of GreyHorse stretchin’ not bitin’
Leaning grass blades no meal for to yield
against belly of GreyHorse sworn for sightin’
Leaning hills in sands no stories dealed
against hoof and tail and flank of GreyHorse bestridin’
On and on did dear friends toil ever East ever least ever beast never feast ever foil gainst broken tale of menlings fore fruited turn, down to the age yet to come.