Myth & Magic, the Ironville School in Derbyshire’s ‘Tolkien Study Fellowship’, have written a seasonal poem dedicated to the memory of Professor J.R.R. Tolkien. Myth & Magic are one of the nine reading groups across the UK taking part in our online Hobbit Community that is reading, discussing and blogging about Tolkien’s classic novel The Hobbit in the year of its 75th anniversary and of the release of Peter Jackson’s new film adaption.
And Yet (Towards A New Bethlehem)
She gazes out at velvet winter skies
Deep in the white heart of loneliness,
Desolate as the fox’s midnight cry.
On frozen forest road ; a sorcerer’s dark palace
For the night bus journey east,
So far from home.
An isolated rest-stop at forest edge,
Ice crystal breath mists café windows
In the solitary Christmas eve quiet.
Outside, neon shadows dance in the flowing dark
To music of December psalms: wind in the pines,
Snow’s steady rhythm building silence undisturbed.
The night bus reaches the border. And the girl dreams on.
Watching the celestial cartographer re-stencil the moon,
Hang an orb of silver in the lantern of the heavens,
Contours of blessed light, free from the sorcerer’s stare,
Reflect the snow-hare’s amber eyed innocence
In a magic land, tonight, no human hand can touch.
Forest fast receding now.
A last, lingering look behind
At realms of loss, kingdoms of wonder.
The girl thinks of what might have been ; what could still be.
For now, Christmas cheer awaits at journey’s end:
Family smiles, warmth, love, laughter . . .
. . . And yet. She knows the forest is her Bethlehem today:
Green sanctuary under snow filled, starlit skies.
Forget the ravenous cash tills ; the unceasing clamour
For more, (and yet) more to awaken our new 21st century rough beast.
“Just where is the soul of Christmas?” the girl asks.
Right here. Aloft on the soaring mountain eagle’s wings of hope.
. . . And yet. The bird is carved, drink flows,
Holy songs ring out. Happiness echoes in voices young and old.
Faith and the eternal light of Christmas all around.
The girl is there (and yet) not there. She thinks of the forest ;
Yearns to dive green-fathom deep, cherish the leverets crouching in their form.
The infinite sanctity of new life. Precious innocence yet to fall.
Is it time for the reindeers to fly through time and space ?
As the girl’s Christmas dreams unfold.
At the edge of unknown worlds, the universal lamp burns bright,
With sounds only she can hear. Sights for her eyes alone.
Stargazing on Christmas night, the Magi seem so close, so alive,
And dream weaving the girl softly reads :
“Oceans as yet undared my vessel dares_.
_Apollo steers, Minerva lends the breeze
And the nine Muses point me to the Bears.”
Dante’s vision of Paradise reborn for Christmas,
As Tom and Goldberry, forest guardians immortal,
Listen to the soft snow melodies,
Watch the circling owl silhouetted in pre- dawn’s crimson and gold glow
Then vanish into pure forest air, as the girl climbs her silken ladder of dreams
To Christmas stars still to come.
This poem is dedicated to the memory of Professor J.R.R. Tolkien.The timeless myths of Middle-earth open an enchanted ’ priest hole ’ for infinite knowledge to ensure we are, and never will be, alone at Christmas or, indeed, any time of year.
Poem written by: Tayah, Romany, Rosie, Elleigh, Kristen, Paige and Olivia from the Ironville Myth & Magic Tolkien Reading & Language Fellowship.
Get involved
Is your reading group or book club reading The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings? Do let us know how you are getting on – send us an email or post a comment – we’d love to hear from you.
Watch out for the blog posts from our Hobbit Community as they read their way through the book.
