Dreaming
Ah stranger,
I was met by a beautiful stranger
and he had a crest
on his head
like to the canna-seed
blowing in the wind
and under the
soles of his feet
was a bright curling
flame.
He came to my
sheiling when I was old
above the fourscore
years.
Many things he
said, prophesying curious things.
A white cloak
he had
and to his feet
it fell
and his hands
were hidden always
in its folds. But once
he stretched a
hand to touch me, and I saw
strangely, for
his flesh was seen like water
his bones were
skeletal in brine.
Green weeds were
floating,
red weed lay near
within his glassy
skin.
And then I knew
how in my island
sheiling
with Mannanan
Mac Ler I had been speaking.
May the holy saints
be with me Jamie mac Peter
for it is the
old gods I have been seeing.
17 May 1997
(C) Copyright 1999
STARDANCER
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