Spring Equinox
.
She wore the ceremonial robe
It drifted around her cinched
At the waist by a rope of crystals
.
As the silvery moon shined upon her
In her basket she carried everything
She would need to observe
the Spring Equinox
.
This night was one of joy,
Celebration, to give
thanks for the renewal of spring
Brought to the earth
She would observe the rite
as others had done before her
.
She moved toward the grove
With the smell of spring in the air
The nocturnal flowers bloomed
With the sweet smell of the sea
And the fragrance of earth
.
There were other sounds
The gentle breath of the wind
Easing through the trees
Stroking the leaves, caressing branches
And the murmur that only certain ears
Could hear. The song of the faeries
A song that was older than man.
.
She was not alone here.
In the shadowy grove
With the drift of stars swimming above
She had never been alone here
.
As she approached the place of magic
Her mood shifted and the clouds
Drifted from her eyes
Standing still
Eyes closed, hands cupped
Loosely at her sides
She drew in the flavor
The beauty of the night
.
She could see
Even with eyes closed
The white moon sailing
Through the black sky
She could see the generous light
It spilled onto the trees
And through them to her
And the power that bloomed inside her
Was as cool, as pure, as lovely
As the moonlight
.
Serenely she opened the basket
From it she took a white cloth
Edged in silver
It had been in her family for generations
.
Some said it had been a gift to Merlin
From the young king he had loved.
Once it was spread on the soft ground, she knelt
.
From the basket she took a small round of cake
A clear flask containing wine, candles
The witch’s knife with its scribed handle
The ceremonial dish and cup
A small halo woven from gardenia blossoms
.
Other blooms…larkspur, columbine,
Sprigs of rosemary and thyme
She scattered these along with rose petals
All over the cloth
.
She rose to cast the circle
Felt the drumming of power
in her fingertips
Warmer now, more urgent
When the circle was complete
She set candles, pure as ice
Along its edge. Fourteen in all
To symbolize the days between
The moon’s waxing and its waning.
.
Slowly she walked beside them
Holding out her hand
One by one, the candles flickered to flame
Then they glowed steadily
.
She unhooked the belt of crystals
It slid onto the cloth like a rope of fire
She slipped her arms from the thin robe
It drifted to her feet like melting snow
Candlelight glowed on her sky-clad skin
As she began the ancient dance
In the center of the circle
.
Kneeling on the white cloth
Moonlight poured over her
she sipped from a silver cup
The flames from the candles rose
Impossibly high, surrounding her
Like golden bars
.
She began to chant softly, than rising
So that it seemed to be joined
By thousands of others
.
For a moment, the grove was filled
With a soft, ethereal glow
Different from light
Different from shadow
It pulsed and shivered
Glinting like a silver sword
In the bright sun
.
Then the candles ebbed once again to small points
The sound of chanting
Echoed away into silence
.
She rose and slipped the white robe
Back on and belted it
Than she smiled and
Stepped out of the circle
.
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Superb...
Simply lovely.
Ron
budd