Dark Sentiments Season 10 — Day 22: Keeping Watch
Posted By Randy on October 22, 2019
Another rite of passage piece with echos of last season’s Willie and the Bear.
The term “traveller’s lantern”, perverted to Hunter’s lantern here, and not to be confused with Hunter’s Moon, refers to a time when safe travel was denied to the average bloke between the last quarter, through new, and to the first quarter of the moon, simply due to the risks of pitch darkness. For more on that I refer you to my earlier piece, Dark Sentiments 2014 – Day 28: Darkness – Literally, in which I said in part —
“Speaking for North America, it’s hard for the average 21st century town or city dweller to grasp how recent a thing it is to enjoy the benefit of street lights at night; and even more so, indoor lighting because even in the days of candles and lanterns there were those who lacked the wherewithal to keep the lights on.. Beforehand, the Moon was called the traveler’s lantern, and nobody went any further than the barn or privy after dark unless the Moon was sufficiently in play. Potential for misadventure don’t you know.”
So you keep your wits about you, I would suggest nothing to drink with this one until watch has ended.
Keeping Watch
By LFM
An hour afore the sunrise on an island in a lake,
A Father touched his sleeping son to give his knee a shake.
“Come with me!” he whispered close, “And not a sound, you hear?”
“Waste no time and show no light, forget thee not thy gear!”
The cobs of sleep now tattered by such words of dark intent,
The boy, full dressed and shod, soon found himself outside the tent.
His pack upon his back, his belt and knife caressed his waist,
And sought his Father’s company in quiet, urgent haste.
He glimpsed his Father dimly at remove, near out of sight,
And clearly saw him beckon ere he turned to join the night.
Just then, the boy was wont to cry, “Please Father! Wait for me!”
But kept his silence knowing that was not a thing to be.
The Hunter’s lantern, nearly spent, lent half-light ghastly pale
In dappled pools that little helped his feet upon the trail,
And so the boy looked overhead for trueness of his path,
For as a trail lies through the woods, so too above its swath.
His Father was another stone on boulder covered ground —
To one who knew not how to see, a thing more lost than found —
But to the Son who sought him he outshone the light of day,
And soon the boy was nestled next to where his Father lay.
His Father gently gripped his arm but gave no other sign,
And why they manned their silent post was nought he could divine.
The boy lay still and followed with his eyes his Father’s gaze
Upon the snaking narrows in their shrouding moonlit haze.
The mainland shore beyond stood but a well thrown stone away,
That might as well been leagues for all the questing eye could say.
And straining every sense to find what might be passing there,
A wild parade of phantasms came to meet his wide-eyed stare.
Still every horror playing out, his Father’s calm defied,
So quiet still, the boy moved all the tighter to his side.
And there they lay on silent guard ere gleam of risen sun
Brought Father to his feet to say, “To breakfast lad, we’re done.”
Silence is a funny thing, it doesn’t want to be,
Yet still, in wake of needfulness, so rarely wants to flee.
Breakfast was a memory before the boy could ask
His Father of the reason they had set upon their task.
“What was it we were watching for?” when voice at last returned,
And finding not within himself the lesson to be learned.
“Nothing happened Father, there was nothing there to ward
“That might rain down its horrors had it simply been ignored!”
His Father smiled and nodded, saying, “So it may have seemed,
“Not every ray of insight comes in day, and brightly beamed.
“A cavalcade of happenings, as you will learn to see,
“Moved through and all around us Son, each as was meant to be.”
“None was good or evil, that is not for us to choose,
“What battles that were fought were not for us to win or lose,
“We stood against what never was, but might have come to be,
“Had night been left unguarded, and with not an eye to see.”
Introspective, indeed.
A father’s words of wisdom that hardly every boy shall have the joy to know