Of Beasts And Men
by Sidney E. Johnson
The times of the Walker filled all the seven lands
with tales of his coming.
He did not walk the paths of men but found his steps
in the hidden places just out side of our vision.
There in those places where you almost see
and yet see nothing, save the leaves swaying
or the water splashing or a shadow passing overhead.
Now and then though, when one could find themselves
alone in some secluded wilderness, just off the roadway.
One might encounter a strange creature staring intently at them.
To describe what you saw would be impossible
because as quickly as you would start to recall him
the image would flee from your memory.
Left with a strange sensation they oft would return home babbling incoherently.
These were the times when some spoke quietly of magic and enchantment.
When the long nights were filled with tales of Sargs
and of Sophtars and the elusive Gishter.
The beasts that dwelt in the dark forests
and the deep grasses and those places along the seashore.
This was the time of Mrithdan the frail man
who knew the walker like others knew their neighbors.