Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Bedwyr’s Song

On the dark road to midnight
The bard takes his rest
With a song in his dream
And his heart on the Quest.
The hollow hills beckon,
The call of the Fae…
The Light in his heart burns
To show him the Way.

To the stone by the well,
In the green, leafy glade,
With the stars on the Water
Reflecting the Blade.
There Mother and Maiden
Will hold up the Grail,
Be true and your questing,
Sir Knight, cannot fail.

‘Tis only the purest in heart, it is told,
With an innocent faith, in his soul,
Who can follow the Path through the darkest of nights,
To the Castle that shelters his goal.
Though the wildwood bewilders his stumbling feet
The Knight marches onward and true,
Through bramble and thicket he forges ahead
With his Vision his heart’s only view.

By the shores of a Lake
Our Knight stops to rest,
Where once, for a King
As a final request,
He had taken a Blade
Wrought of glory and pain,
Cast it far in the Lake
To conceal it again.

For the glory had failed
And the story had died,
Pierced with a darker Blade
Deep in its side.
There the Blood that had fallen,
The Life that was shed,
Rekindled the Heart
Of the Land where he bled.

As the dawn rises over the dark, glassy Lake
On the shore, where the mistwraiths arise,
The incense of apple wood perfumes the air,
And the morning Light shines from his eyes…
The Veil thins, revealing the prow of a boat
That sailed to him thus once before,
When the Blade that was forged out of magic and Light
He had cast, in his grief, from the shore.

Then the barge had appeared
As the Hand took the Sword
And the Queens had enfolded
His sacrificed Lord.
Yet, this time is different,
For there in the prow
The Lady is smiling
And beckons him now.

He crosses the water,
The song of the Quest
Echoes the drum beating
Deep in his breast.
The Mists close around him
No longer to roam,
For Avalon’s Lady
Is taking him Home.

 From Life Lines

There are joys for which we cannot find expression, moments that have a depth of emotion that can only be shared in images. It is here that poetry comes into its own, for the pictures we paint with words can conjure all the emotions of the human heart. From solitude to passion, from aspiration to the quest for the soul’s inner light, we seek to find ways to share our journey through life, to witness our footsteps as we pass through its shifting sands and cast a reflection on time itself. The poet is both mirror and reflection, framing the images of a human life and giving them a beating heart.

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