Continuing the section of the magazine, but now within this blog, we will be posting new poems from contributors on a regular basis. Anyone wishing to submit their work for consideration should send their poems to editor@paganireland.com
The Green Man
Through the deep green undergrowth
There emerges from the trees
A wild, green being covered in leaves,
Part of the wood, a man but not a man.
There’s nothing to separate him from the wood,
To tell where it ends and he begins,
For his is the forest deep,
Nature grows out from his skin.
He blends in with the greenwood grove,
A guardian of all that grows.
His beard of leaves grows green, alive,
His hair abundant foliage,
His eyes shine with transcendent light
But he seems at home right here.
He moves slowly as if rooted
But the undergrowth allows him pass
As if he reigns in the forest,
Though he seems from some ancient place.
He opens his mouth and whispers
“Welcome home to yourself,
For you are also part of me,
Even though from another star,
I am you and you are me”.
I spent little thought upon this riddle
As birds perched on his mossy antlers,
More awe-struck by this being,
That defied any science I knew,
But seemed older than sciences,
As if from some ancient magic
That first created this world,
With its trees and flowers and berries,
As if the forest came from him.
The vines and leaves growing from his form
Rooted in the very earth
And became the forest green
As if created in mirth.
He seemed to have a subtle, joyous love
Welling up from his heart and throat,
That brought life to all the flora and fauna.
He goes to ground in wintertime
And is reborn in every spring
Growing a knowing with wild wonder,
Renewing every living thing.
All nature was his child,
Not separate children for nature is one,
One being, as he was one with all.
All nature seemed to flow through him,
As if the streams came from him too.
This Jack of the Green sounded a song
That brought life to all and shook me
With a resonance that harmonised with wind
Blowing through his leaves of green.
I knew I must guard nature too
For everything to be in tune,
Allow the plants to go to seed
With abundant fertility.
He waved a limb and turned to part
And vanished in the undergrowth
Returning to the forest deep
Where everything is wild and real
But harmonising naturally
As their lord brushes through the trees
Knocking acorns to the ground
And breathing life to a new family of trees,
The hugging branches of the wild wood.
By Edward Durand
(you can buy Edward's work at https://gaianeos.com/)
