Apologies to Mr Lewis

Not entirely sure about this one, but it popped into my head on a boring train journey, and I may read it on
Saturday afternoon at the LGBT poetry event. I expect poor old Clive Staples will be turning in his grave. It's partly a reaction against the dispiriting tendency I've seen for people (particularly pagans, who should know better) to portray satyrs and even the All-Begetter himself as sexless eunuchs for fear of upsetting the casual observer.



The Song of Mr Tumnus


A hundred years of winter,
So it felt.
Once limber branches grow numb and splinter,
Life frozen, unchanging;
Jadis, solitary, the table cleaves
Songless woods sepulchral stand,
Leached of hope, fallen with the leaves,
Veined skeletons spiralling into mulch.
All that was once held so dear
Decayed, dissipated.
We few survivors, tired with fear.
Would Aslan’s roar echo
Promise throughout the world?
No lion’s thunder stirred me;
It was your greeting that unfurled.
Softly spoken,
Shivering up my spine
Dissolving a century of snow,
Letting our songs entwine.
Quiet but richly echoing
In forest vaults strong,
Arterial lust calling me back from death.
Sighing a syrinx song.
No lion’s panting,
But your breath upon my nape
Melted the Gorgon’s indifferent gaze,
And granted our escape.
Warmth flowed to your touch, colour blossoming
I took your hand and we danced up the Spring,
Sometimes you leading,
Sometimes I, trampling winter’s sting.
The lion-heat of summer
Cannot come till first
Tumnus tumescent
Quenches his forgotten thirst.
Goat-boy you called me,
And so I am.
No Son of Adam I,
But a Child of Pan.
I tell a different story

Neglected by the Spawn of Man.

Comments

  1. I like the way you've connected the reawakening of the land with the arousal of Mr Tumnus, contrasting the hearty and physical lust of the satyrs with the spiritual regeneration brought about by Aslan's death and rebirth. Interesting Pagan reworking of an event that's traditionally read as Christian.

    After reading this I think you'd enjoy Robin Robertson's poetry collection 'Hill of Doors,' in particular a poem called 'Dionysus in Love.'

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