~ By Courtesy of Others ~
Windwalkers
In the wind you hear it - the first notes of
winter´s song
The days dying early and the nights living long
And they who travel the sky´s black cloak pace among us
Gale and gust and cold´s bitter kiss makes their presence known
In the streetlight´s glow, a child shuffles through
dead leaves
Sees them caught up in a sudden biting breeze
She thinks she hears a woman´s voice and children sobbing, thin -
Frau Wotan rides the wind
In the woods a man lingers in the bloody light
tracking a wounded prize
The gust´s icy grip tightens as he watches sun blood leave the skies
Does he see horses made of moon and cloud, hear mad howls of hounds and horn?
The Wild Hunt rides the wind
The farmer´s field is turned under and ready for
the snow
Tools are shelved, seeds are bagged and he´s covered up the plow
But in the field, like in his sire´s, stands a lone sheaf, neatly tied
For a weary eight-legged horse when the Old Man rides
Night near rules the city - true; bright neon hold
it at bay
A comfort, those false fires, to those who crave the sun
But if you dare the dark beyond the circle, beware you´re not alone
Until Day gains upon Night, you ´company those who ride the wind
Author unknown