26 Aug THE GUARDIAN OF THE NORTHERN GATE
This poem was inspired by the author’s attendance at the recent Conference of the North in Whitehorse, entitled: “Encircling Light, Expectant Silence.”
by Ron MacFarlane
They came …
This rag-tag band of gypsy-eyed and dry-mouthed seekers of soul,
Hope-thirsting for northern gold –
Not for the hardened sunlight locked in quartzite veins within the earth,
But for the golden effulgence that bridges the Great Divide between Worlds.
From the Four Facings they came …
Sore-bruised from the fierce march of city-ization,
And bent-weary from the weight of world wisdom.
I know these long-travellers from ancient times …
When oceans of ice flowed down from the Axis;
When mighty Aztlan sank deep beneath the dark waters
I provided them green haven, these carriers of outer fire,
And I survived them on the meat of my beasts.
Urged on by the Iron Spirit of Our Age, they have returned …
The one who leads them new is familiar to me:
He sounds from the shining heart of Shamballa;
Sadly, few recognize his spirit
When he present moves amongst them.
They speak of “crossing over” and of “the guardian” …
This is not strange to me, for I am Beringia,
The Guardian of the Northern Gate;
I serve Borealis, the Great Spirit of the North;
In times past, I bridged the old lands of the East and the new lands of the West.
In times yet unborn …
I will spirit-ferry the old and the new rounds
That come before the Great Wrath;
In those bright and terrible days,
Will I see again these walkers-on-the-earth?
Will they carry anew the inner fire and the inner gold?
Will they then find in my tundra-land of outer diamond,
The Philosopher’s Stone within themselves?
Will they come again …?