Aonar, the Last Creation

The night is cold, with sparkling ice
Freezing flurries whip the air
The wind is howling o'er the treetops
A pale full moon shines on the snow.

The dens of many wild creatures
Tucked away where none can harm them
Oft occupied on winter nights
Now lie bare and give cold comfort.

Through the sparkling, air-brushed snow-scape
Leading from their homes and dells
Tracks and prints and furtive scratchings
Mark the paths the beasts have trod.

From snowy mountain and starlit glade
The forests' beasts come stately walking
Wolf and hare both pace abreast
Following an unheard calling.

The glade is girdled 'round with moonlight
Glancing off the fallen snow
An open vale is spread mid-forest
God's kiss on the forehead of the world.

Every creature, large or small
Sits in circle round the glade
Deer by lion, dove by raven
Their sacred pilgrimage is made.

Midst the beasts of hill and fen
On the snowy, dappled ground
Elemental creatures, dancing
Tripping through the fallen snow.

In center of the snow-traced circle
Midst fey and half-heard songs and laughter
A golden chalice stands upright
To awe and humble all who gaze there.

From it's mouth, gold light pours pure,
Flowing as from primordial spring
Fountains up to paint the darkness
In between the stars still shining

Winter, autumn, spring and summer
On faces of the cup engraved,
Light of dawn and evening brilliance,
Cast golden shadows on the glade.

Music, as from heavenly minstrels
Flows in easy, honeyed strains
The song of life, and all that lived it
Twines among the dancing fey.

For this is Aonar, the Last Creation
Formed on the day of rest
When God did look upon his bounty
And breathe a sigh of satisfaction.

That breath, imbued with Godly virtue
Settled on the new-formed land
Nestling on highest mount'top
As golden dew upon spring grasses.

Over time, and aeons past,
Shaped by Man's highest aspirations
Dreams from the valley land it guarded
Gave it form and solid substance.

Once formed of mortal dreams, however,
A dream it always must remain
Coming once, on longest midnight
Restoring faith for the new year.

And there it stands, most proud and upright,
Living, breathing incarnation
Ringed by little people dancing
'Neath boughs of yew and elder-pine.

On the stroke of midnight silence
Midnight of that longest darkness,
The chalice tips, and pours forth lifeblood,
New life on mountaintop awakes.

Trees and sprites and animals kneel,
The Lord in Heaven bows his head,
All living things pay solemn tribute,
For this is Life, Eternal and Undying.

Light and music spill from the chalice
Raging like a flood in torrent
Sweep o'er meadows, forests, mountains,
To restore Life, and cast our Darkness.

Then over the snowy, ragged mountains
A sliver of white-gold, softly shining
Rises, and the otherworldly pageant
Fades at the touch of new year's sunshine.

And from the sky, the Sun pays homage
To Aonar, the Last Creation
For giving it life, and love, and warmth,
Enough to last another year.