A bard misplaced in time

Paints portraits in moist soil

And buries dreams in cloth

As sky glows evening blue

And black crows caw from wing.

 

Night veils its secret thoughts

In mist within the grove

Unto which she is drawn

To enter a portal

To the forgotten side.

 

Warm breezes brush her knees

At fringe of thin tunic

As old minstrel poets

Recite prophetic verse

From atop ancient hill.

 

Seers among Willows

Read omens in white clouds

As Druid voices rise

In Oracles’ music

Beneath a healing moon.

 

Hooded cloaks fall away

As hands join in circle

Where dancing arbiters

Lost in their augury

Call forth admonition:

 

“Seek truth beneath great Oak,

But sleep must not befall

There under the Yew Tree

Else dreams in distortion

Shall call death upon thee.”

 

Thus, she died as foretold

Reborn in unity –

A solstice of Self through

Consecrated visions

Dreamt under Tree of Life.

 

© 2008