Fata Morgana
Or Sign of the White Eagle writ in Blue Hexagram
Sail out into that space – where the Druid isles face…
The shores of Normandy – and you’ll find God’s debris
Is it not her you seek? – shadow of stones antique
Dreams hidden beneath roots – heaven’s fallen sweet fruits?
For Avalon will seal – that final grand appeal
Usher in that blue trust – defeat the petty lust
The day will Morgan rise – obscured signs most unwise
The rune of making cast – steel forged from breath made fast
And when the East wind comes – Godspeed to sound of drums
For war is upon you – fair maiden for boys true
Sail to Avalon’s port – make haste to make good sport
Let the groves sing star’s song – till Dover comes along
And raise the flag of trees – as far as Odin sees
Woken has the lion – mark then, sons of Zion…
And sons of Lach resolved – a new age has evolved
New Age, no sooner said – than the morning baked bread
Than the evening brewed beer – than the broken sword’s tear
A drop of molten steel – drop of amber to seal
Past, present, hope’s mercy – the Winged Warriors vict’ry
At last, at long last, here – beyond the sight… yet near.
