Elegy for A Sidhe by Wendy Howe

If she passes

under cloven stone, shawled

with cobwebs and pink thrift,

the sea will hum

in mournful tides.

Her spirit will rise, drift

with the flight of birds

to Summerland fields.

There, she will rest

graceful lady in wild green—

her long hair trickling

into shadow, wind and grass, the cold

shimmer of dew.

And yet, her magic will be felt

in the bloom of plants

prompting fish to spawn

or that wishbone of light

looming between mountains

after a thunderstorm.

If she fades

as change splits the earth,

she’ll be transparent

in our tears, those raindrops

on a forest leaf

and pass into memory.

Her pale aura clinging

To all of us still

like rhyme to a poem

or yellow sands

to an island of sleep.

Bio

Wendy Howe is an English teacher and freelance writer who lives in Southern California. Her poetry reflects her interest in myth, diverse landscapes, and ancient cultures. Over the years, she has been published in an assortment of journals both on-line and in print. Among them: Gingerbread House Lit Magazine, Not One Of Us, Mirror Dance, Strange Horizons, Witches & Pagans Magazine, Goblin Fruit, Mythic Delirium, Coffin Bell, Corvid Queen, Liminality, The Poetry Salzburg Review, Eye To The Telescope, Eternal Haunted Summer and others. Her most recent work will be forthcoming in Silver Blade Magazine and Polu Texni later this year.

Author's note

"Elegy for A Sidhe" was inspired by an article I read called "The Sidhe And The Sith" which explored the different types of fairies regarding location of origin, character and relevance to ancient and present day cultures. With our planet currently in peril from climate change and other technological factors, I thought about the possible death of nature's creativity and our own imaginations being compromised. Yet, I realized that like the sidhe, the legacy of belief and enchantment transcends time and place. It still lives on in spirit and through stories that reach out to future generations. And when I hear the word, carmina, that idea of a transcendental magic and history comes to mind.