It’s that time of the year

It’s that time in our lives

It’s Autumn’s meaning

Let’s get ready to go

 

The weather has to be right

As for any other kind of hunt

It’s best with falling temperature

Ahead of an approaching storm

 

The Wild Hunt comes in like a storm

With wind, thunder, and lightening

The sky will be darkening over

The hunters and steeds are massed

 

Look up into the sky as it clears

See the drifting cloud formations

Take the forms of riders and mounts

In the atmosphere of the imagination

 

There is a wide choice of steeds

Limited only by what is conceived

Ride a wild boar, a tiger, an elephant

Maybe something a bit more exotic

 

Why not a centaur, a griffin or roc

A goose , an eagle, or a hawk

A whale, a mammoth, or a bat

Look into the clouds and choose

 

The Wild Hunt is there

for all of us seers to see

Not everyone can perceive

Its rapid passing overhead

 

Lets go when its our proper time

With tack, spears, and skin of wine

We won’t start out too early

But we want to be ready

 

Walt Birdwell,  Oct 21, 2014

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Walter Birdwell

Born in Missouri in 1942, Walter Birdwell graduated from the University of Missouri in 1964 with a BA in creative writing. Immediately enlisted in the US army to avoid the draft and was in the US army from 1964 to 1967. Married Yolanda Garza a month after discharge from the Army and have been married forty-five years. Walter is a progressive political activist and has been for about fifty years and a follower of Pagan religious tradition for about twenty years. Have previously published newspaper articles in The Southern Patriot and the New York City Guardian newspapers (both defunct progressive newspapers) in the 1970s and have recently published articles in The Missouri Chigger, an Ozark area magazine, and the Brownsville Herald. Enjoys writing, sculpture, hunting, fishing, hiking, birdwatching, reading, traveling, and all outdoor activities.

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