Stonehenge Revisited

Time magazine reported yesterday that British researchers have proposed a new theory for the origins of Stonehenge: It may have started as a giant burial ground for elite families around 3000 B.C.

I was there a few years ago and spent a sunrise hour in the circle itself.

This poetic musing captures my experience.

Stonehenge

©2008 Rolland G. Smith

The stones of old stand tall, erect,

Forever in a mystery shroud

Of wonder where old myths select

The morning mists and hanging cloud.

I walked the rise, just up a hill,

And stepped within the circled stone.

As new day dawned, with light to spill,

I stood in silence, then alone.

The flora, fauna and the wind

Give tribute to this sacred place.

There’s not a praise they would rescind

Of wordless grace they all embrace.

What rules were here within the strain

Of sacrifice and sun’s new rays?

Were lives of youth, young ones in vain

Because of ceremonies’ plays?

Primeval gods still speak in signs

To keep the current mind away,

For I was lost in thoughtless shrines

That held and hold me to this day.

An altar rock now fallen lays

Upon, within, the sodded lawn.

A hundred tons or more it weighs

Though lifted once by many strong.

When twice each year the solstice brings

The sunrise to a heeled point,

The apex of that stone then sings

With blessings that the gods anoint.

When at the moment of sun’s rise

The rays of light are ’top this stone

And point the way, I theorize:

To something hidden, that was shone.

I know not what, but I’ve been there

As eons passed and stones would drift

Past wars and pain and pagan prayer

And too when Gaia’s mood would shift.

So what is there for us to see

Besides a ring of standing rock?

Perhaps the circle lets us be

The ancient key that will unlock.