Ancient History
Bethan Le Mas
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What god or fate or pharaoh Mapped us in these fey ley lines? We're carved in stone and split in two In dolerite and Saracen spines Brought by boat and time to be stood Knotted together like carpenters' wood In the basin of a fertile land we stand Ready at Arthur's hand we stand To speak the sun's revolve Into magic when the morning clears To map the strangely passing Of the winter summer years I fear they did not know but only knew They must stand us here For stone calls out to stone when souls Are split as we are split, my dear Call and repeat and repeat and call And the owl has it wrong and the cuckoo will fall And the breaker will snatch what rocks it can Snatch but we stand far inland Does it please you to be thought of this way? As hewn-off granite or sculpted clay? It is the only way I find easy to say How bones are just stones in the remains of the day How love eternal inters all its promises in earth Smooths them over solemnly with velvet turf But if we are turf and earth and bird And day and night and dolerite Look! How we stand and stand and will not let go Not for any god or fate or pharaoh
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