The Green Wizard

 

Of those named "Wizard"
But five are known:
White, Grey, and Brown were named
Two more, they say, were Blue.
But there were more.

Always, the few are seen
While the masses work
Without accolades or hope.

Toiling away in silence,
Tending and healing,
Their ripples gently moving the
Water so even the mighty
Must clutch for purchase
When the wave finally crests.

And here we find the Green one.
Clothed like an old beggar,
Roaming without seeming purpose,
Arriving when the Spring comes.

Kindly and wise, they say,
Knowing the ways of vegetables,
Speaking with the trees,
Helping bring in the new lambs.

Some called him "druid"
And he did not correct them.
Some called him trouble
And he sang them a song
About old days coming again.
Some called him a fool
And he laughed like a drunkard
With a flower in his beard.

Excerpt from "The Green Wizard" translated from the Elvenari scrolls at the White River scriptorium. Set here by my hand, Bard Galen in the fifth year of King Nordram.

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