Saturnius Poem by Andrew David Dalby

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale,
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair.
J. Keats (31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821) Hyperion. (1819)

First- - there is the untamed and timeless vast void,
A night ocean: forever soundless- forever voiceless,
That is warped by whorls that bury and bear it down;
Or in a fury seethes away by burning light that is so bright
To keep those weak constructed laws we make at bay.
This is his black palace! This is his huge stabbed throne!
Where screaming Saturnus and the shining stars do live.
This- - he calls his home.

From this vast throne a weaved ring is carved by atoms and vapour
From his madman eyes that scream while his mouth devours his sons
Sol-Invictus stands sourly back to allow this, his wild shadow, honour.
And in the glorified sense of the malefic through force of inertia,
There grows the celebration of the were-wild and the scourged:
A slow sure beauty in the celebration of this: the forever un living.
And that through his truly vast and inspiring unsurpassed majesty
The surety of egalitarianism stoutly sings.

To many Saturnus is the beast: the monster of melancholic
Through sacrifices that are made to the furies and the fates
That are devoured so deliciously by the now growing Chthonic
A symbol of omens and the phony proof of divine entropy.
While still others slowly slip off his dragging cleaving crown
With presents and with family however far and misplaced
And on the birthday of this the known unconquerable sun
A kingdom of Thorns is sown.

Yet we are Saturnus kith and kin, we are fully Saturnius
We celebrate his seeds and the removal of hard weeds
We see the scythe yet we hate to see it fully thrown,
We are his servants and we bathe in this his wonder
And a mid this wild and weird and so savage night,
Where breathing is so vast and so very, very tight
I take some time to contemplate your real delight.
On the sphere that’s yours alone.

© adh 2013