Rhetorically Rhonabwy…

the wood flickers red.
the hearth burns so slow.
sparks give a voice
to the settling flame.
the waiting knights shift
and keep murmurs low.
two mighty men lean
intent on their game.

a battered sentry
flies in from the field,
weaves through the knights
to the side of his sire.
rude laughter and shouts
now heighten the roar
struck from the ravens
heard screeching in ire.

gray eyes meet green
with no trace of real dread.
‘your move, sir’ was all
that King Arthur said.

with never a wince
Owain stares at the scene,
while the fire
still sputters and glows.
the battle cry sounds
high like a keen
in the flurry that rages
and grows.

waving his hand,
Owain makes his next move.
dark knights take form
as they shape and they shift.
then down from the trees
a swirling wild hoard
slashes the pages
with talons so swift.

not changing expression
as he raises his head,
‘your move, Lord’
was all that Sir Owain said.

the dream is now over;
the pieces are crushed.
those brave men long lie
asleep in their dust.
the swords are all buried
bound in their rust.
the silence is deep;
the echoes are hushed.

yet sometimes, it’s told,
on the dark of the moon,
red fire is seen
in the midst of the gloom
and a promise still lingers:
Arthur’s not dead.
one day he’ll return.
that's what is said.


The Dream of Rhonabwy is a story written in the Welsh Red Book of Hergest. Lady Charlotte Guest incorporated the tale into her translation of the Mabinogion. Whether the story is to be read as a literal tale, enjoyed as a satire, or is to be interpreted as a mystical vision, is unclear.

Within my own mind, the chess scene takes place in a darkened inn. Arthur and Owain are each so intent upon besting the other that their moves on the chessboard become glamoured and are now replicated in reality out in the nearby fields. The two men ignore the pleas of knights, pages and ravens to halt the game. Finally Arthur, realizing that Owain is not the true enemy, shakes off the glamour and crushes the chess pieces, thus breaking the spell.

Sometimes we get so caught up in a game that we forget that it is just a game. Sometimes we confuse friends and enemies. Sometimes we have to shake off our illusions. Sometimes we need to listen to what other people say.

Sometimes we really need to wake up.

(copyright Wren Walker, 2010. photo by Fritz Jung)