Merlin And Viviane Poem by Prathibha Nandakumar

My man concluded it was hell
with heads nodding in approval.
Merlin condemned was a tragedy
And I was the lone protester
saying he wished it and got fulfilled

He was no ordinary man
But a cambion born of a mortal woman,
whose name no one knows,
and sired by an incubus.
It had its advantages, of inheriting the
supernatural powers and abilities.
Merlin became a true wizard
ascended sagehood and
my man misses out on
his magic and intrigue.

Merlin enabled the king
to mate in disguise the enemy's queen
and father a son they named Arthur
But it was more fascinating to count the stars
from his house in the deep woods
with seventy windows opening to the sky.

My man ignores the part when Merlin went mad
after his son fell in the battle of whatever.
He only focuses on the later versions that
tell us about how the wizard becomes an Antichrist
and reverses the effects of harrowing hell.
He forgets to mention the boy at birth baptized
freed from the clutches of Satan and his intended destiny.
Merlin will have nothing to do with it till
he falls prey to his ardent disciple
the lady of the lake, who gave him
a taste of his own medicine.

My man argues that the spell was hell,
forgetting it was Merlin who
arranged Arthur's desire for the consumption of
the most beautiful maiden ever born.
Merlin defines desire and if he wished
to be a bird can the wings delay forming?

Coming back to Viviane desired by Merlin
she captures him in a crystal cave or a hole
under a large rock or a magic tower or a tree
there weren't many spots to hide in, in those days.
But she kept her promise of visiting him daily
feeding into his lust, leaving him a man satisfied
And that makes my man argue it is torture and
toss his head, shooting questioning looks
Now tell me what's left of Merlin?

There is this final version of Merlin
with his prior prophetic knowledge
looked forward to what was served at his table
lacking in ability or will to counter his lady love.
He lay there still under the spell, under the rock
listening to them calling out his name,
searching for him where he was not
and laughed a silent laugh.

To ease my hurting heart there is this version
of a peaceful confinement with walls of air,
visible as mist, beautiful tower of crystal
spending every night with Viviane in ecstasy.

My man finally whispers, alas, Merlin has turned into
a disembodied voice attempting to escape his air prison and
I remind him quietly, he was once a wizard, a druid, a prophet
and a Guru to his student whom he taught the spell
and she has passed the test with flying colors.