Cierveyn Mystique

Come gather ’round, come gather near,
I’ll sing of folk who lived as deer
Of obsidian eyes and bushy tails,
The Cierveyn of the hidden vales…

Oh, they danced in the spaces between,
Where never a mortal eye has seen,
With antlers crowned and footsteps light,
They waltzed through eternal twilight…

In forests twisted, strange and deep,
Where spiral trees their secrets keep,
Where hot springs bubble, steam and sigh,
Beneath a pearl-and-amber sky…

The Cierveyn knew no words for “I”
Their hearts beat plural until they die,
Were woven close as breath to lung,
As melody to song unsung…

They touched like rivers touch the stone,
No Cierveyn ever walked alone,
Their fingers traced on face and skin
The stories that they held within…

But where, oh where, did they reside?
No map can mark, no ship can guide
To forests where the steamsprings flow,
They lived where only shadows go…

Between the tick and tock of time,
Between the reason and the rhyme,
Between the question and reply
There dwelt the gentle Cierveyn…

So if ever you sense a deer appear,
A presence both far off and near,
Remember those who dance between
The beautiful, the never-seen…

The song is done, the tale is spun,
But Could it be still they dance and play,
In the hidden spaces of today…