A History and Prophecy

THE FARM
Late in the day, the animals find
That they wish to leave their old hill behind.
Lion, black eagle, and bear leave the tree,
Rooster and white eagle yearn to be free.

But rooster goes mad, crowing new fates,
Black eagle circles, lion lies in wait.
Bear hides in ice, the rooster limps back,
His beak strikes twice, the lion attacks.

Lily blooms anew, rooster tears it out,
The flocks go mad, then cower and shout.
Black eagle strikes, the rooster bleeds red,
Black eagle grows, the lily is dead.

A red shadow extends, a force unseen
To corrupt the tree, and weaken the green.
A dream advanced, “the farm is renewed,
When tree and fences and hill are removed.”

The quadrile dances, her sister’s egg broken,
The farm is at harvest, gold eagle awoken.
Bear’s fur is red, the black eagle tamed,
Gold eagle feasts, the farm is in flames.

Black eagle free, white eagle eaten
By bear and black eagle, rooster is beaten.
Gold eagle and lion come, battle is won,
Gold eagle grows, devouring the sun.

Lion is weakened, dragon turns red,
Eagle, dragon, and bear dance on the dead.
Rooster, black eagle, and lion are friends,
But mushrooms in field are dread portents.

Shadow yet grows, wielding moon and star,
The tree is darkened, shadow’s path unbarred.
The seventh hill falls, a moss on the bark
Corrupts the green, tree roots are turned dark.

Red bear hides, gold eagle cheers
He will spread his wings, rule over the years.
The shadow yet grows, the quadrile bowed,
The farm is now his, the animals cowed.

As gold eagle stretches, his wide wing rips,
He tumbles to shadow, his form now splits.
The farm is gone mad, the animals stray,
They bloody themselves, bear comes this way.

Dragon extends, sand serpent bites,
The rooster is plucked, the lion bleeds white,
The farm is on fire, the animals sorry,
The shadow boasts of the end of the story.

As all is in cinders, he rules the late day,
But the tree is renewed, hill straitens its ways.
The seventh hill rises, the lily reborn,
The quadrile ends, a great eagle formed.

The farm is rebuilt, the animals cheer,
They’d happily work for dozens of years.
The new lily wilts, the animals bored,
Look to the east, to find a new lord.

Lamb now arrives, frog at his side,
Croaking lamb’s praises, horns hidden inside.
The farm is the lamb’s, for only three hours,
But by his teeth the tree is devoured.

Lamb is the shadow, now hidden in wool,
He mocks the farmer, “his servants are fools!”
The farmhand strikes, lambs blood is spilt,
The farm is destroyed, it shall be rebuilt.

The farmer returns, considers their way,
He judges the flock at the end of the day.
Goats on the left, sheep on the right,
The sheep rejoice, the goats die of fright.

So does it end, the farm’s wild day,
With fire for shadows, and peace for the way.
Farmer is finished, the end of the war,
And all is now well, as it was once before.