A poem inspired by the Anglo-Saxon poem called The Dream of the Rood |
i At midnight a miraculous dream appeared: a cross with gems encrusted, golden etchings carved and chased with silver in candlelight radiating and reciting the lord it brightly and beauteously shone five jewels the cross spans studded not a grim gallows rose up but a heavenly hallo was hailed with angels softly sitting on a cross wondrous the best of crosses for all to behold. ii I remember (eons ago it seems) being ripped from my roots dragged from the dark woods, hewn and heaved by my enemies hauled and halved. twisted from agonising treetops into a spectacle warriors with weary sinews carried me on shoulders commanded me to a hilltop to bear criminals groaned and gasped on my trunk hardened and my contorted branches whirlpool the shadows and rocky darkness where souls could be saved from despondency and despair. with courage and power, the lord leaped into my trembling arms that steadfast stood I could not bow to the king of mankind. They pierced my flesh with hard nails, nails of malice murderous and mocked us both on the mountain. I was left blood-drenched as his blessed spirit passed. |