Paracelsus - A poem for Aquae Mundi

Paracelsus, the Magician

Brandishing the caduceus
His hand hurled wind towards the horizon
While the winged pollen
Scattered blood into the mouths of rivers

You, my noble companion
You came from lands of salt
In the Northeast
From lands of wild men
You sang without care
About the coolness of the fields
While the Saracen corn
Sprang forth in dryness on the lips of mountains

Oarsmen rowed into the shadows
They rowed in silence
Towards the land of a thousand towers
Cutting deep inroads of fear into the heart

You knew that world of lands far away
You knew the route, the dolphins, the blue ravines,
The shallow waters of lukewarm hearts
And you knew that the red wind could awaken,
That the spirits listened to the silence
On the right, left, north and south
They were rock, trail and dawn,
A breaking wave,
Thundering strength

Twelve were the oarsmen
Twelve were the gazes fixed on your hand
And while hope sprang from the waters
The lands yet unseen
Brought rain to the Black Angel