The crossroads

North,
the hanged man
ankles bared to the bone
stagnates, fingers worn in silent prayer.
North,
to the land of loch and lake,
he points,
questioning, reasoning,
Where is your home?

West,
The empress sits upon maternal throne,
bloated abundance beneath
An ivy crown,
Her golden hair radiates the wants,
needs of a weary heart.
West,
to land of mount and stream,
back whence I came
To be coddled in memories of youth?
Lle Mae dy gartref?

East-
the tower beckons,
It’s foundations torn and routed,
awaiting a rebuild that will never come.
Whispers in ruins of dissolution.
East,
land of fens and marches,
magic and mistrust,
to make a print in mid of agriculture?
Er ingle see fach degret?

South,
the world emblazoned in sun,
palms open, temptation screams
warmth, endurance – success
Fools gold.
South
Land of skyscraper and city
rush and ruin.

Decisions.
Delusions.
Anticipations.

Where is your home?

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8 responses to “The crossroads

  1. Decisions, delusions, anticipations…especially if u don’t have a compass to show the way… Choices…we pay in one way or another. Nice Write!

  2. i like your musings on direction, based on cards picked (at random?) from a tarot deck – well written & inspiring, i’ll try writing to a layout myself

  3. this puts me in mind of the Lord of the Rings, and the song they sang for Boromir when sending off his body…. Welsh and German, yes? I like that each direction has a completely different feel and voice.

Put me out of my misery people!

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