Hamsa, magical one,


Mystic bird,


Eyes of gold fire,


You rode upon the wave,


The cosmic courses


Of ancient, shining times;


You walked amid the owl-sung light


Of the fairy tree,


By the tall, moon-shifting




You saw the walls of shimmering stone –


The sacred lamp-lit cave,


Where the ancient, bent ones still


Lingered ever on,


Their gods too old to be remembered,


Times of other worlds and climes,


When the air sang in a haze


Of sparkle flown


Like dragonfly wings that whirred,




You recall the bright winters of yore,


So long before


The ashen day when


The armies of the stalking skeleton


Broke onto the red field,


Sweeping all with their dire


Iron gaze,


Where now the star-cast


Bell that pealed


From the green mountain?


Hamsa, you are the swift-unfolding wings of light,


The tales softly-singing,


The warm face of the sun


Hamsa, where have you gone,


To what far, dawn-


Lit land?


And when will you return again,


Radiant, with fast,




Maned horses,




As the rose of spring,


On the glad-rushing winds of eternity?


© 2014, Sharon St Joan


Photo: Marek Szczepanek / Wikimedia Commons / This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.  

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