A Traveller’s Return

Can you hear and feel that rumbling racket?
It’s the Standing Stones
and the Old God’s a-calling.
Get out from amongst the concrete,
the only electricity you need
is already ripping apart
the end-of-Summer skies.
The cliff Raven’s have finished
pecking clean
the ritual bones of the Solstice.
Fist-shake the runes, later…
now is the time
for shadow-walking-reflection.
The trees are thrumming
your footsteps
high up into the mountains of your Birth.
The ghosts of your Dead Kin
have readied your Past into kindling…
in preparation of the ‘Cleansing’
You were born the ‘North Side’
of the Circle…
and your energy is needed.
Uncloak from the Present,
climb back through the veil
which separates Us from Annwn…
and take the crooked in-between trail.
A soaring Barcud Coch
screech-whistles your Traveller’s return.
Your Soul is chameleon-ing
back to its correct colour…
bring your fresh scars and stories
over to the Ancient Fire,
it’s so very good to have you home at last.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.