The Quest

I realised yesterday that I had got a little bit ahead of myself on the Hero’s Journey. But I woke up with the kernal of the poem for the hero’s return. Only when posting I realised there was a gap for the quest! But then, sometimes that is just how inspiration rolls. At any rate, today I am redressing that deficit to the tale of the hero’s journey.

The Quest

What beast yelps while
unborn, its mother unfound?
That stalks the deer,
while running the fox to ground?

Riddle a life.
See the tooth marks leaving scars.
What rides you more?
Beast? Or quest? What's your pole star?

When does beast
become the quest? It is not
the cup you seek,
but drink in Camelot.

Like snow falling
when caught out knee deep,
be careful! Do not
be tempted to fall asleep.

That is the beast.
It can lull. It's paw can sweep.
Be on your guard.
Do not risk falling asleep.

There are many
slips before the grail can be
put to your lips.
What's your beast? What price booty?

What villainy
or treachery can detour
a sacred trust?
Greed, envy, pride, rage, sloth, lust...

When does the beast
consume the cup? Guzzling fire
it will combust,
body ash, its heart expired.

A quest is not
a treasure chest for pirates.
The quest begins,
always ends, in God's pockets.

Copyright © 2019 Bee Smith. All rights reserved.

Today’s featured image found on Wikipedia is an illustation from Arthur Rackham’s Romance of King Arthur,  published in 1917.

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