The Green God

By John I. Blair

He claimed
It was Morgain who’d cast
The charm that made him green,
Impervious, I think the Knight
Was more than witch’s lover,
More than poet’s metaphor.

So green at Yuletide –
Not just clothes, but hair
And face and rearing steed –
Shrugging off decapitation,
Taking head in hand, then out;
Mighty witchery indeed!

Yet nothing for the Green God,
Who’s lived from Spring to Spring
Since time began, surviving
Winter’s killing chill, darkest night,
Man’s butchery, carelessness,
Cruelty and greed.

How appropriate the Knight
Would ask as forfeit
Of anyone who challenged him
That, losing, they in penalty
Must plight the same as he
Had proffered them – their neck.

The Green God stems
From holy mother Earth,
The place we all return,
Flesh to dust to green again,
A sacred cycle we regret
But cannot fight.

©2010 John I. Blair

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