Wild Hunt

Summary

"Wild Hunt" is a poem reflecting on the struggle between human resilience and primal instincts amidst a harsh winter landscape.

Abstract

The poem "Wild Hunt" paints a vivid picture of a winter solstice, where a person seeks refuge in a fortress of rationality against the wild hunt, a metaphorical representation of fear and primal instincts. As the night progresses, the internal battle intensifies, with the individual's inner beast raging against the confines of logic and societal norms. The struggle is fierce, causing pain and challenging the walls of the fortress built from knowledge and beliefs. Ultimately, the poem suggests that the true essence of life is experienced not within the safety of our constructed defenses but in the wild chaos of the hunt, where the lines between hunter and hunted blur, and survival into the morning brings a mix of glory and forgetfulness.

Opinions

The poem conveys a duality between the safety of knowledge and the untamed nature of human instincts.
It suggests that the struggle against our primal fears and desires is both physically and mentally taxing.
The fortress of science and knowledge is portrayed as potentially restrictive, denying traumas and failures rather than facing them.
The wild hunt symbolizes an uncontrollable force that challenges the very foundations of our constructed identities and beliefs.
The poem implies that true freedom and authenticity might lie in embracing the chaos of our inner nature, despite the pain and destruction it may cause.
The imagery of the hunt blurs the distinction between the pursuer and the pursued, suggesting a shared fate and a commonality among all participants in life's struggles.
The poem ends with a note of survival and continuity, acknowledging the scars of past battles while recognizing the opportunity to keep writing one's story.

A poem on hope for the morning

Winter solstice nightfall Lost in howling blizzard Ruthless wind is blowing Frozen piercing needles Through the endless open Lifeless space of air.

The wild hunt is setting Off on the trail of fear Down the plain of dazzling Speckless virgin snow To sink starving fangs In the warm and trembling Body of a human soul.

You built a strong fortress From the bricks of science From the stones of knowledge, The beams of learnt beliefs With a moat encircling Filled with denied traumas Unacknowledged failures Lessons never learnt.

This night of the year You’ve curled up in terror Like a fetus cramped In a warm mother’s womb. The wild chase is howling You can hear their call Piercing dreary thickness Of the castle walls in The R.E.M. sleep stage.

And the beast inside you Is waking up from the dead Wallowing in rage And desire to escape From a rusted cramped cage He is thrashing wildly Against common sense Causing pain and wounds, Bleeding, breaking claws And the last lines of defense.

You can hear your heartbeat Racing. Toxic fumes of lust Fill the air. “Let me run free With my own kind!” — Screams the wounded Monster in despair: Down the snow plain Breathing in needles Burning down the lungs Muscle tissues tearing — To keep up with the chase.

Walls collapse like cards Blown away by the wind Of fate as many half-truths Are dissipated by truth. A bird in a cage would Never sing like the wild Ones do. There is no smooth Way out of the prison of sadness. One dark moonless night You will have to run for your life With the dead in the freezingly White whirlwind of madness.

Light gentle fingers of daylight Are soothing the pain turning The wounds into new scars As the early morning arrives The bodies of brothers scattered Across the stretch of the plain The blood of the hunters has the same Purple shade as the blood of the game When soaking the snow mixed together Blood colors it in the carpet of glory You can vaguely remember the night Or what side you were on in the hunt — Alive to write one more line in the story.