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Lunatic
Paused at a churchyard when it’s eventide
I see flit by a bright blue butterfly.
Magnolia fragrance wafts through the twilight.
Somewhere I hear a distant whip-poor-will.
Although the air is warm, I sense a chill.
As I glance up, something is not quite right.
I feel a gust that comes and quickly goes.
And swish again! The airborne strangeness grows.
The whoosh of wind is whirling through my head.
A portal opens wide; two figures race
And battle in this graveyard’s dimming space.
The one, the darker shape, has eyes coal red.
The other like moon light has a silver glow.
He draws a flaming sword and strikes a blow—
The other whines and vacates from the yard.
The silver specter smiles and sheaths his sword.
He vanishes! I am completely floored.
Did I hallucinate? The air smells charred . . .
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Peter Venable has been writing poetry for 50 years. He has been published in Windhover, Third Wednesday, Time of Singing, The Merton Seasonal, American Vendantist, The Anglican Theological Review, and others. He is a member of the Winston Salem Writers. On the whimsical side, he has been published in Bluepepper, Parody, Laughing Dog, The Asses of Parnassus, and Lighten Up Online (e. g. # 48).
This is a fun vision! Vaguely reminds me of The Red Cross Knight and some of his adventures in the Faerie Queene. Great photograph pairing on Evan’s part too!
:), J. J.
Yes, a clear vision (not fun for me though) expertly painted and entirely possible IMHO.
This could be read as the hallucinatory vision of a lunatic, or as an allegorical dream-vision in the medieval tradition. The two fighting figures in the churchyard would seem to be the Devil (dark, with coal-red eyes) and St. Michael the Archangel (with a silver glow and a flaming sword). The Devil is defeated and flees, and the victorious Archangel sheathes his sword.