79 Cave of the Black Dog Part IV

Part IV

* A straunge and terrible wunder
 from the cover of a pamphlet published by Abraham Fleming in 1577

The Beast hungers today

Before the open Cave,

Its fiery eyes a beacon in the mist,

Overlooking the rime-smeared moors.

Astride their ebon ponies.

Shadow  hunters  aim bows of black ash

Toward the sea.

One huntsman sounds his curved horn,

Its sound awakes the Fae of this place

Its sound gives voice to the Vortices

To the Ley Lines that span the sawgrasses,

And a Tempest roars onto the coast

Its booty a sea-farer’s bane

And I am once again beset by dream.

The drums are heavy, like cold wet sand to my ears;

The skins wrap around my heart as they resound,

My chest compressed by the weight.

I do not know the shades here,

but they are my captors.

We walk in silence across a sconce-lit chamber ,

And approach a door.

Black it is, as ebon-laced night,

No moon, no star.

A chant not heard by men

Opens the door, and beyond

An emerald chamber reveals

A  single blackwood table, and two chairs.

A locked wooden chest, rimmed

By tarnished brass trim illumines the room.

Two rounded handles,

Shaped like serpent’s tails, each join a dragon’s

Head where the coils meet at the base.

I know this chest, and I turn away.

But then I hear the howl of the Black Dog

Whipping with the wind far above.

I understand -

“It is the first of many. Do what you must.”

Oh, but I remember this box.

A key is pressed into my hand,

And I think of Life’s many keys,

Drums, a howl and chant -

Not always found, not always used.

But my hand, a disembodied organ

Drums, a howl and chant -

Reaches for the padlock.

An eerie flash of light, and the lid

Glides open. Remove the cloth,

Drums, a howl and chant -

I must remove the cloth.  I lift

Drums, a howl and chant -

The linen, uncovering the chest’s content.

Within, the head of my father stares

His eyes, wide open, and his mouth seems to move

Drums, a howl and chant -

“Why have you done this to me?

Cracking timber and the frost whip of brine-edged wind

Assail me, and I suck up a hurting breath.

“Father, you betrayed me”, I shout.

“Yes, I have imprisoned

You within, for this is the nature of things”.

Drums, drums, drums.