The Rising Dark
April came dim and aged
skimming a dingy pall
over the puff of cold birds
her purse of promises empty,
black oil filling green veins
poisoning all seasons.
Priests and politicians
of tired old schools
worked to conjure
a new god or hero
to change the course
of dark tides,
stand for us in the fury
of rising seas,
use a sword of light
to vanquish drought and hunger
the rapeful greed of autocrats,
restore balance for another eon.
All the old heroes lie dead of the task
leaving us in the raging dark.
Gandalf, Jesus, Merlin, Finn,
rise again.
Katherine L. Gordon, April 25th, 2011.
