‘I would that the Boar without bristles had come from the West
And had rooted the sun and moon and stars out of the sky’
—W.B. Yeats, from ‘He Mourns for the Change That Has Come Upon Him And His Beloved, And Longs For The End Of The World’
And what says
Jupiter? Skies fly
untamed and all-consuming–
the eagle on fire.
from the void
of planets and stars? What then
answers Mother Earth?
The arrogance of
violence. Sacred oaks seized,
broken, scattered. Dark.
And so November comes to an end. Many thanks to Eliot at along the interstice for sponsoring Shadorma November, and to Jane Dougherty for A Month With Yeats, inspiring many a deep thought and plenty of wonderful verse. December will bring new challenges I’m sure…