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The Sun, The Storm and the Boar

Summary:

Poetry based on the main three boys

Song of the Sun, created Feb.28th, 2020
Son of Storms, created Feb. 22nd, 2020
Epic of the Mountain King, created Jan. 28th, 2020

Work Text:

SONG OF THE SUN

 

Dance the Gods’ Waltz, my dearest son

Hold your eyes to the Clear Blue Sky,

Behold the fury of the Raging Sun,

Paint the Rainbow before it’s gone,

As the Sun God’s fiery Chariot passes by.

 

To the Burning Sun the earth lies bare

By the Sunflower Lance’s skyward thrust

Wrapped in a Haze from its stare

Mirages soaring in the heated gust

And disappearing before the Setting Sun.

 

Look above as the Dragon’s Head rears

Bathing the world in his bright gaze

The Summer Sun rises, Burning Bones gather

When the Sun’s Halo reappears

In a parade of dancing solar flares.

 

Dance, my son, ‘til the Radiance wanes

Keep the twilight in thine hands and blade,

Be their torch when the sunlight fades

Stand, hold fast, against the reins of fate

And let thy dream become the Rising Sun.


SON OF THE STORMS

 

Thunder rolls and lightning falls,

A near yet distant call

The skies decreed at last,

That day it stood overcast -

 

Their chosen one:

Herald to the storms,

Bearer of the Storm God’s might,

He who is bathed in golden light.

 

Chosen of the Thunder God

Embodiment of Heaven’s glory

Borne within an earthly soul

Of storm-like power and fury.

 

Son of Man, Son of Storms

Golden lightning in His sword.

Demons fall in His path -

Judgment by Raijin’s wrath.

 

Child of the mighty Thunder Lord,

Waken and take your blade in hold

Unleash the God sleeping within

Rid this world of Demon kin.


EPIC OF THE MOUNTAIN KING

 

Once upon a spring’s day of long ago,

When the sunshine poured in gloriously

Through the leaves of the mighty forest guards,

The mountain sang a song of praise,

For the king had arrived to his throne

By a stream where he was borne

When he fell from the heavenly realm.

 

‘Ere was a sow drinking from a brook,

She heard a shrill cry and then turned to look

Whereupon she found washed up the river shore

A little creature wrapped in sullied clothes.

 

Its fur was of a beautiful night sky shade

Its eyes shone like emerald gems

Under the rays of the morning sun.

The wind blew a breeze carrying the mountain song

“‘Ere is thy king!” it whispered along,

As the sow approached the tiny one

And took him with her into her den.

 

Watching, waiting, the sow laid still

As the tiny creature beside her quietly stirred

Embraced in the warmth of the blanket of leaves

Cradled to the very bosom of the Earth.

 

 As the seasons passed in a graceful whirl:

Winter crawled, and spring walked,

As summer ran then autumn fell,

The forest song echoed a solemn knell

As nature claimed the great-hearted sow.

There were no tears to shed, no wounds to mend

And yet on and alone, the mountain king kept.

 

But like the seasons did, though graceful not

He fell, stumbled, walked then ran

Until finally upon two feet the king has stood,

His pace quick, as he heads out of the wood.

 

When the sun beat down upon the earth

On one glorious fateful high noon,

Running up to the mountain’s crown

From where he could gaze upon everything

Then with a voice as loud as he could

He proclaimed upon the surrounding land:

“I AM KING OF THE MOUNTAIN!”

 

And the lands did hear his mighty call;

The winds whispered it even through the forest floor,

The crevices echoed his proclamation,

And the grass bowed down to his fearful majesty.

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