Circle of a Dream

With soft clatter of seven-fold antler

The white stag did raise me from my sleep

He whispered so fleeting

That which brought me into being

I offered up my soul for his keep

My faery-frost kiss to a pale wintry mist

Did melt as it clung to his coat

Fell his antler to the shore

And I made it as my oar

To row in a birch bark-ed boat

The source of the river—all a-swirl—all a-shiver

From waters of three brook-lets bold

Took charge of my coracle

Like the word of an oracle

The chart of my course to unfold

Now that first stream of three sprang forth ‘neath a tree

Of holly with berries blood red

Through forest dark and deep

That water it did creep

‘Til into the broad river it bled

The second little stream poured straight out of a seam

Of bedrock so high up in the cloud

And as it tumbled fast

An old rowan tree it passed

That bore the mark of lightning brave and proud

It bore the mark of lightning brave and proud

Over the hill the third brook did spill

From crystal pond filled like a seeing bowl

It wound all through the heather

Red white and purple all a-feather

Of sweet honey and good fortune it foretold

The Queen of the Night dressed in full evening light

Danced up the sky to lead me on my way

And as I paddled deep

My mind was far from sleep

But my hunger—like a hound—did growl and bay

My hunger—like a hound—did growl and bay

Ancient salmon I saw and I drooled down my jaw

But to ever catch he swam too swift for me

Still I chased him near and far

‘Til I grounded on a bar

Of sand where stood a hazel nut-ted tree

On the sand there stood a hazel nut-ted tree

Of sweet hazel fruit I ate ’til the night was growing late

And the star wheel turned to urge me–move along

As I knelt to wash my hands

Looked up at me a man

To the Otherworld he surely must belong

I reached for his face—instead—in its place

A smooth black circle-stone my fingers met

From the river bed I ladled

That slick rock to my birch cradle

For soon I’d need a spot to lay my head

Twice more I saw the man look up at me again

Twice more I tried and tried to touch his face

Each time he vanished free

As I seized up stone times three

‘Twas then I knew he’d never leave that place

I crawled back in the boat and decided to float

And let the Goddess take me where she would

I made up my bed

Three smooth stones for my head

Then I laid me down to dream of something good

I laid me down to dream of something good

The next thing I knew I found that I flew

Straight up to a doorway in the sky

Upon threshold made of oak

True vision veiled by smoke

On the cusp of summer’s ending there stood I

Much to my surprise as the smoke cleared from my eyes

I discovered that I now had faces three

One face looked toward the past

To the future one was cast

The third face turned to search inside of me

As I gazed back into time a cold hearth I did find

The cooking fire to ashes it had turned

But as I peered ahead

Nine sacred woods lay stacked abed

A great bonfire a-waiting to be burned

The logs yet lacked a spark to light up the long dark

Without a flame the winter freeze would kill

Then I turned within my sight

Saw my soul was blazing bright

And with that pure white heat the fire was fulfilled

With that pure white heat the fire was fulfilled

Now I took up a brand to carry in my hand

And I flew from fire circle to the sea

As the tides beat on the beach

With that blazing torch I reached

To plant a newborn paper-bark birch tree

Last I laid down in its lee, and the white stag came to me

He snuggled to my side to keep me warm

As I fell to rest I prayed

Thanks for the journey that I made

And thank you for your shelter from the storm

Thank you for your shelter from the storm

Thomas Hubbard (10/2005)

The Music and Musings of a Mad Mystic

Circle of a Dream

mystical menu

Meta