A banshee wails outside the door.
She crys out a warning of what is to be…
of that which has not come before.
Her warning is of a meeting with destiny.


The eerie sounds travels upon the breeze.
It stirs the atmosphere within the ground.
It seems to brush through the trees
and gather energy from all around.

The sound is not coming from one spot in the sky,
rather is seems to come from everywhere.
It surrounds the house with its mournful cry,
lamenting the loss of someone there.

Throughout the centuries, she has wailed her cries
to generation upon generations of them in deep despair.
Down the years, she has made known her mournful sighs,
as she turned to summon, from above, the Coache de Barre.

Copyright August 4, 2002
Copyright.SilverCelticMoon (C. Sullivan)