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— ELFIN LEGENDS —
Of man and angel, one yet neither, they came
To dwell forever in shadow worlds between
Form and substance, they, all elfin creatures
And all who float or fly as came from Paradise.
Yet neither here nor there, though everywhere,
They’re the fairy host, nurslings of eternity
And of all things everlasting, like Amaranth,
And of all things Heavenly, like love and dreams.
Alive only at life’s Heavenly cusp,
They appear but in half-light dawn or dusk,
Seen usually by some quick sideways glance,
Or through some autumnal haze, perchance.
Fays live in a moon-blue star-mist, out of space
And out of time, rising each morn as vapors,
Wavering here-there, in rainbow colors,
Being the light and life of all leaves and flowers.
Midwives of bloom, wizards of natural miracles,
Painters of green, and guardians of buds,
They, the keepers of what moves all things,
Are, with flowers, Heaven’s smile upon the earth.
Born of kisses, fays are life’s spirit-soul,
So much felt as to be oft seen and heard.
Their musical wings play songs so intense
That they fall as perfume upon the sense.
Fairy tinklings are sensed as drowsy fumes—
Incense lifting one on wings of fairy sighs,
The tide that turns us, as seen in the wake
Of leaves rising in their swell on windless nights.
The gossamer mist snares me, barely felt,
A fairy cloth of prehistoric weave that yet
Haunts every stream, meadow, and wood
In the Land of Youth, where timeless beings live.
For, as I’d sensed the cloud of lilac fragrance
From a mountainous bush, that passing mist
Awakened ancient creature things in me
That sympathized on an old frequency.
To life’s forgotten tides and swells I yielded,
And, thus, was allowed into their spaceless world,
Through a small opening that tunneled, at first,
Then funneled into the expanse of Fairylande.
The Lande appeared, at first, much like my own,
But, I saw colors that I’d never seen—
That were neither blue nor green nor in between
And, further, they shone in some strange direction.
So this tale I give you, if I can return to tell it,
Of shadow worlds within earth’s dominion,
Preternatural places transcending time and space—
The enchanted Faery world, Earth’s missing link.
Other mortals I saw, too, while passing through,
Then knew that Elflande overlapped our own;
They were not asleep, but frozen in motion,
Awake yet unmoving in their instant of time.
Such, when each moment passed unto the next,
These mortal beings passed, too, wondering what
Might have been seen: phantasms in the mind
That fell between the frames of their living film.
Trumpet flowers had announced my coming,
My ticket being the poems that I’d written
On the lore and legends of the flowers—of Eve
And elves bringing forth all that bloomed and grew.
All things I felt continuously now,
As in humankind I knew only in
Rare moments of ecstasy when melded
Happenings had lifted me heavenward.
Magical things I saw—that only appear
On earth when one’s eyes close but for a second:
Wingèd ladies, and flowered butterflies
Whose prints are pressed as dust upon the pansies.
The birds were of a species never known
And seemed to share a special closeness
With their elven brethren, faery sisterhood—
Which I knew and felt and saw as kinship.
I heard woodlands that once only whispered,
Meadows where there was once but a murmur,
And grasslands, unhushed, full of wondrous sounds—
The music from beyond the human range.
My senses were heightened: touch went deeper;
My eyes saw colors beyond the spectrum;
I reached into living things, knowing them,
And the odours called, mixed with emotion.
A flush of youth shot through me, as the chain
Of light from angel to faerie added my link,
And my eyes were sparks of bright burning fire,
Sense extended in a new dimension.
I sprouted wings and flew, like a bumblebee,
And fell in love with a lovely wingèd flower
That had come to life, a vision of fantasy,
Her elfin eyes beckoning me toward ecstasy.
Summer follows us around, elfin queen
And I, as we lay snug in winter green,
Your glowing pixie crown lighting the scene,
Your curves spooning, the ears pointing away.
As fays, we made love in the air, hovering—
Evanescent visions of disembodied happiness,
The magic link in the chain of things, connecting
Man to God, by angel and star, to all that we are.
Satisfied, fulfilled, yet desiring more,
We returned to our cabin, loving deep
Into sleep, as blackness fell all around,
But for the starry memories that glowed.
Although I can stay no more than a year away
Or lose mortal form, this place will be my home,
So, here I’ll return, the seasons going round,
Where I’ll continue to expand this poem.
Although back to deliver these words, I already
Miss the sylvan solitude and the crystal pools
Of enchanted worlds between Heaven and Earth,
Where the wanderers of light call me home.
So, now, live your life and dream a dream, through
Dale, meadow, and field, in grove and greensward,
Across love’s pure stream, in shimmering sheens
Of the dells of Elflande—it takes but a wish.
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