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| The Moors, North Yorkshire Source |
In our Blood
Wind and rain sweep the moors,
past Roman and iron age hearths,
over venerated hilltops
carrying song of tribal gatherings
and rituals, tucked away shadows
buried beneath misty mounds
and prehistory of oak and hazel.
When light is low
and squalls rage upon the cairns,
one hears them, neolithic, bronze,
realm of our ancestors,
and as storm settles,
we also turn toward the sun,
in procession, in celebration of life.
by Margaret Bednar, September 4, 2019
linked (late) with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Wordy Monday with Wild Woman - Castle Ruins, Lowering Skies ... Tell us a story". I see NOW I was really supposed to write a story for this prompt... Sorry! So below is my 10-minute attempt to follow the rules :)
In My Blood
A chipped piece of flint draws blood, still sharp after centuries beneath windswept moors, tromped upon by Roman boots, nestled beside stones of an ancient iron age hearth. Light is low upon the cairns, the squall has simmered, and I can hear them, perhaps winging from hilltops: venerated voices, whisperings of rituals untucking from misty mounds, shadows escaping from prehistory of oak and hazel. As the storm settles, so does my soul. Squeeze my finger, release a drop of blood upon the earth, my tribal offering to the realm of my ancestors as I turn toward the sun and follow the procession of light toward the moor's horizon.
By Margaret Bednar, September 4, 2019
I adore "Time Team" a British archeology show that ran for 20 seasons and had 59 "special" episodes. I'm on season 14. Below is an episode you might find interesting based on a Moor in Cornwall.
7 comments:
Good one, Margaret!
Poetry or prose was fine, Margaret and you did admirably with both. I LOVE the poem, especially, with its atmosphere of history, ancestors, a time before time.......and those who followed after. In your story, the same theme is rendered so well, especially with the drop of blood in memory of the ancestors, and the following of light towards the horizon. Wonderfully done!
I like this, Margaret, partly because I have never seen moors when I knew what I was seeing at least. Vast areas of marshes would be the closest that I know. We drove through these for almost two hours each way going to visit the penguins in the Falklands. All vehicles were four wheel drive, our's was a Range Rover and was the only one of eight or so that didn't get bogged down. Search Falklands or penguins on my other blog for more.
Your story of a clan living in the moors was interesting, I would be more crazy living there even if it were in my blood.
I think of you guys with this storm coming. ??
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This is incredibly potent. Especially like: "When light is low and squalls rage upon the cairns, one hears them, neolithic, bronze, realm of our ancestors."😊
Jim - thank you. we will be fine here in the mountains. A low chance of rain next week.
The way you tell about those ancient memories on the moor is so great in both the prose and the poem... there are always traces if you look closely.
I so enjoyed your description, Margaret.
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