I’m waiting for you
I know you are coming
Gathering strength and weight and power
To flow silently through the air to
Fling yourself in wild abandon on
All of man’s creations
To lie still and white and deep
Causing us to sleep a deeper night
In memories of ancient white rites and
Forfeit lives in the cold caverns of
The age of ice.
Such a sleep, such a long slumbering sleep
Where care and woe are numbed and silent enemies
No longer able to reach our careless hearts.
It is enough that now you are just a whisper
Of our once great power, although we know
You will gather again that white mass and
Once again o’erthrow man’s bauble-cities
To reign supreme for your span.
But for now, just a hint of your existence creates
A complacency of snuggling and warmth and
Delicious knowledge that you cannot cold-coffin us.
It is only right to acknowledge you as the foe you once were
It is right that your existence is known but it is equally
Right that we thank you for the gentle numbness you
Carry in your silent soul that caresses care from man.
I nudge closer to the orange glow,
I feel you coming closer still.
Come, my sleep-giving friend, come and distil
Your white magic, enough but just enough
To thrill us still.
By Iseult Healy