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Hymn to The Red Spring


As a child I often wondered
what Narnia must look like
 
sat disappointed that every
wardrobe door did not unlock
a world of lions and fauns  
 
but I kept dreaming as every
child does of something  
beyond this place.
 
Thought about it as I paid  
for a ticket and wandered into
that mystical garden
 
amongst fountains
& lush grass
 
pink cherry blossom  
carpeting a canopy
 
a curious tree with ridged bark
surrounded by shoeless devotees
pressing their heathen skins
against history and silence.
 
I paddled through a healing pool
hoped for a miracle
drank of the lionís head
 
thought of Aslan appearing  
softly through the darkness
that metaphor of a master  
padding powerfully  
through the centre
of everything pure
 
everything good.  
 
I sat before Chalice Well
listened to the spring birds chatter
planted damp feet against stone.
 
When a Pagan prays,  
itís a curious thing
 
as if another world runs parallel
to this, with no expectation  
of salvation
 
just presence  
 
before holy water
sacred idols
ancient sky.
 
As a child I often wondered
what Narnia must look like.
 
I closed my eyes
still hearing the soft stride
of a beast-like God.  

 
Written by Northern_Soul (-Missy-)
Published
Author's Note
Letters to the Old Ways
16/30
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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