The Reiver's Song

So I write to an  empty sky.
where horizons,
shifting south,
repair to memories' regret,
and regret's recall of  yesteryears.

where went the miles,
all marched beyond the pale,
no pale horse ridden,
no pale rider a threat,
no pale blade  beheld,
no  pale foe unmet..

where raged the  peace,
of whispered content,
where soared the phoenix,
on fated karma bent,
all feeling,
shamed, hidden.
yet still to vent..

taste the wind,
and see the skirl,
of  drones
and chaunters
raising all from a slumber
pillowed on steel.

frozen,
frozen in time ,
without all trace,
without all life,
within the dead,
the still,
becalmed.

where  set we down,
in history's play.
where found we,
the time,
to lose the way.
the path, the tao,
the course of arrows
lost from flight,
the rage of blades denied their fight..

and still.soft pipes,
lament in my soul,
in sounds I feel,
and felt ever of old...
and still I  can see,
that sweet Eleanor,
proud,
and fair,
as ever before.
wrapped all about,
by a banner of hair,
my eyes knowing a truth,
always hidden, lost,
denied,
to her..

are the eyes of a fool,
seen as pools in my soul,
are words of the  loon,
left as sour taste,
in my mouth.
but who can set judgement,
other than one steeped in mine own parole,..

play on,
chant the pipes,
pipe the chant,
amid a dream,
weaving deep,
skirling high,
carry words.carrying meaning
across   blood bannered skies.

How oft did she weep,
how deeply a sigh,
how harsh felt the pain,
neath masked ,
hidden,
eyes,
shadowed neath a hood,
how sharp splintered the pain,
to bite down ,
on  her own blood.

oh lady rise,
let slip all that withholds,
the freefall of being,
just grasp hard the meaning,
sieze swift on the flower,
hold it hard, hold it close,
drink deep on its scent,
taste that aroma,
the tell-song
of where whispered words went.

were they spoken in  symbol,
soft sung when alone,
were they mourned
were they chanted
or as small deaths lost moan.
did they claim hidden power
from a surfeit of pain..

so many roads  trod ,
so many sights glanced,
but not seen,
so many meanings repeated,
so many truths said,
left unheard,
each word,
whispered,
a warrior,
a lesson unlearned...

where went sense,
in the  swarming,
of time's heady drift,
how long lost,
was the secret
of plain sight's
ken bereft.
show me sense in the summing,
of discontent's rule,
show me light
from the darkness
of fate's jester's,
harsh rule...

once when saplings stood tall,
a pallisade 'gainst life's pain,
'gainst sorrow,
gainst that unending war,
there was one priced his blade cheaply,
indeed offered it free,
no  tax on  its service,such honour decreed..
perhaps too cheap the price,
and thus no value discerned,
fine steel seen as tarnish,
all truth seen as a test...
comedy in errors,
clad in shrouds
torn from jest..

might sight fail so  badly,
the past lost from view.
will all sound fade and haze,
to muttered shrieking and mewls.
did we damn ,
all tomorrows,
down many the long day,
did we cast down the wrong demons,
set false gods free to play,
where free-birds in all forests,
should have sung and held sway,
did we sacrifice eons,
for  a hedonistic
wasted day.

all life,
is a question,
an answer unfound,
all pain
is a tide,
set to ebb ,
cursed to flow,
all recall,
a challenge,
sweetest memory,
still a war..
yet within,
all left unspoken,
despite all knowledge unsaid,
where words lie feared,
and some  whispers be dread,
no matter how long lasts the peace,
in its centre  hides war,
so midst all that is else,
stands a raphaelite envisioned,
seen clear,
as that fair Eleanor.

So, play on……for me piper,
Let my rebel's lament greet the dawn…
For as in lives  been and gone, when I set new widows to mourn.
Play on for me slowly,
Play on for me long,
And let rally my banners,
Let rally my throng…
Let all come and face me,
Let all learn the way,
Of my life's arcane meaning,
Apparent archaic disarray.
Play on for me pipers,
As my clansmen piped my past,
My ancestors the Wildgeese,
And the Dread Gallowglass..
With warpipes of  my northlands,
And my Celt Reiver’blood yet still fast..
Join with the bodhran,
And  such laments sung in the Gael,
And blessed be the piper,
Who dares play beyond  the pale.
And again I shall stand with you,
Dare  my enemies  to come on,
With your skirl all about me,
Carrying my memory’s song,
So my eyes see  past shadows,
And my once gentling  soft hands remember  too fleet a touch,
Of one, freely adored,
One beloved,
Loved, missed, and mourned, still in life,
One Cherished so much….

Play on…. for me…piper.
For my name,
For my line,
Play on for me slowly,
Play on all down across time.
Play on for me piper,
For  Me,  strangely Immortal..
Piper…..
            Play ON…