There is a little hidden glen

Art Credit - Silas Toball, The Lovers

There is a little hidden glen
I fear I’ll never see again.
I saw it as a toddler when
a witching wind came sweeping in
and whistled me away,
to set me there one day. 

As I grew, I came to find 
the wind blew every autumn-time;
when night gave in to breaking light
on equinox, I’d wake and rise
to greet the dawning day,
and be conveyed away. 

To find myself transported to
the glen, where candy poured like dew;
I’d laugh with dragons all afternoon,
and evenings dance with kangaroos!
I’d play all night and day,
and hope I’d get to stay. 

But every time, I’d wake to find
next day I’m back in childhood life,
with visions of the glen behind
resplendent in my little mind.
They’d shore me up with joy;
I was a lucky boy. 

One autumn, I was nine or ten,
I rode the welcome witching wind
to find a playmate in the glen,
beside the radiant river bend.
She never gave her name;
these were my favorite days. 

Each equinox, when I’d return,
she’d be there wading in the burn.
As we matured, playtime turned
to storytime behind the ferns;
I wrote her poetry,
and she made art for me. 

One later year, a laughing chase
became a passionate embrace;
and then we had a lovers’ day,
and everything for me had changed.
But next year in the fall,
she didn’t come at all. 

I pined for her the longest time,
until I finally realized
she’d shied away to let me find
my ever-after in real life; 
to be a lover in
a real enchanted glen. 

You wonder why I’d tell you this
romantic myth of wishfulness?
Because I recognize that sense
of intimate enchantedness
whenever I’m with you;
I feel you feel it too. 

So lie outside with me tonight
beside the stream, beneath the sky,
delighting that we shared the time
to greet the equinox at sunrise
lying in our glen,
and listening for the wind. 

Lee DeNoya - Taos September 2021