The Ascent of Idris
by William Christofides
We ascended Cadair Idris
the stone throne of Merlin
At his footstool a silver lake
mirrored majestic peaks
In his rocky chambers we dined
and tuned our voices
We shouted for delight
our joyous chorus echoed
The lake eternally remains
silent and tranquil
We made our grim surmount
upon his solemn throne
Following the cairns
our ancient weathered guides
We reached his arm-rest
a place of mist and smoke
Engulfed by shadow
we waited for the Light
In grave apprehension
‘till the lifting of the gloom
We followed in the steps
of the previous pilgrims
One foot before the other
the monotonous dance
Climbing before us
a figure of a man
Holding his staff
above the snowline.