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The Wild Hunt
The thinly veiled curtain between one world and the next
Slips aside, I catch a glimpse, my breath halts in my neck,
I see the fierce countenance of Odin, blazing eye
And in a hundred thunderings the Wild Hunt rides by…
The screams of those caught, piercing, in the
maelstrom above,
The torturous cries of maddened steeds, the smell of pungent blood,
Above it all the laughter of the Master, maddened Har
The cloaks of those who ride along blot out the very stars…
The longest night is here again, and I am caught
outside,
And now it seems, amid the screams, that I, too, now must die
I brace myself for what I know is woven of my thread
Odin catches sight of me and shakes his whitened head…
In that briefest moment as his eye transfixed mine
Everything stood still as ice, no world, no thought, no time
The Valknot on my neck seemed to burn my very skin
And then the horde had passed me by and I could breathe again…
© Johnny Whitebread
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