Into the Dungeon
Thanks to inspiration from Christina Zaba, to our ancestors and ancestresses
No, you wouldn’t choose to go down into the dungeon
Shoved, kicked, handcuffed, manacled,
Perhaps bleeding from the battle ..wound going septic with puss
Loss of comrades, family or friends.
Freedom and light above ground.
No way of knowing if you’ll ever be out alive.
Perhaps less dramatic, simply starving and caught nicking a loaf from the kitchen
Or tried to run away from the army
Far to the west where the sun sets crimson over the sea
And a dawn of freedoms breath in your lungs
Had lured you to hope for better things
And look where its ended-
Execution without trial for desertion
Flogging for stealing or
Humiliation in the stocks before the hanging
But maybe worse than that..simply to rot down in a poxy stinking dungeon
Maybe noone even knowing you are here?
Stench of piss and shit and rotting flesh of your once brave warrior mates
Making their fierce last brave stand for their land
Our land
I have been there in that dungeon with you,
In my darkest nights and coldest fears
In the greatest loss known to man and woman –
Of love and hope
Its not nice in the dungeon
Not a light happy little tale of a silly old dragon
And who believes in them anyway?
And if they killed the sheep or scared the cows
Serves ‘em right those
Dragons
No it’s a tale of slaughter and raids and injustices,
Brutal beatings and culture all but destroyed
From which we may never recover
If we are still stuck in this dungeon…….
So we sleep to get through the night
Out of the Dungeon
And that’s when She appeared
In my dreams..calling to me
So Strong, So Loud, So Fierce
So Gentle…
I awoke, gasping for breath, sat bolt upright,
Eyes staring in the dark
Heart pounding
A Gold Dazzling Shimmering Grace
She had been once and now
Destroyed as the Last Dragon.
Descended into a dungeon,
Silently enduring and waiting alongside the prisoners
Till someone hears Her whisper in their dungeon dreams
‘The Tomb is the same as the Womb’
For those that seek in their darkness
Her Treasures….
She is found
Dragons Treasure
The Gold in the Black.
So fingers fumbling, numb with cold,
A candle is lit in the sadness and loss of that dungeon
To Her…
Lady Dragon Queen of Peace
Restorer of Love and Hope
Bringer of Justice and so Peace in our land.
A light glimmers enough to see the work we need to do…
So much work to do … of healing…
We will pull out the arrows and daggers still found in our souls..
The gaping wounds from unbearable hurts passed on…
(Ancient memories of a vile dungeon which no human should endure?)…..
Rage our grief and sob our losses to cleanse the poison and puss….
And then stretch out sore and aching bodies,
Placing our ears against the cold stone wall
Of the darkest dungeon
Of the darkest longest night
This solstice night
We will hear Dragons Heartbeat within the Stillness of the Earth
Beneath and around us
And know She is Still Here
Dragon Queen of Ancient Lore
We will send that knowing back,
Back in time to all that have slept here before us
In the dungeons of castles of many lands
So many Dragon Lands.
So many castles,
So many dungeons.
Through the thick underground walls may they hear us in their dreams
Oh ancestors and ancestresses ..
May they foresee that far to the west, a sun sets crimson over the sea
And there is a dawn of freedoms breath in their lungs.
With a glimpse of gold from a Dragons Wing .
May they see that, at least,
As they await , back then, in their dungeons.
Pamela Gaunt Solstice 2006