Sometimes A Wild God

[covenrochester]

SOMETIMES A WILD GOD by Tom Hirons; Illustration by Rima Staines

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine.

When the wild god arrives at the door,
You will probably fear him.
He reminds you of something dark
That you might have dreamt,
Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;
Instead he scrapes with his fingers
Leaving blood on the paintwork,
Though primroses grow
In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.
You are very busy.
It is late, or early, and besides…
You cannot look at him straight
Because he makes you want to cry.

Your dog barks;
The wild god smiles.
He holds out his hand and
The dog licks his wounds,
Then leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.
Ivy is taking over your sideboard;
Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades
And wrens have begun to sing
An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

* * *

Go read the rest, or listen to the author recite it, or both, at:

https://tomhirons.com/poetry/sometimes-a-wild-god

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I love this poem because it is a reminder to me that there is no progress in the Craft without the Horned Father. I cannot imagine the Way of the Wise without Him. You will find records of witch trials in Europe where people stated that they would rather die than forsake Him. Let us repeat, with Ameth the Elder, "The Gods of the Witches are the oldest gods of all."

*** Blessed be to those who serve the Great Mother and the Horned Father.

* Copyright to Coven Rochester