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Witchvox Chapter: Local Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 5427
Posted: August 4th. 2004 7:00:57 AM
The goddess and the seasons' wheel
Age Group: Adult
The goddess and the spinsters’ wheel
The Goddess speaks, though do we listen…
Winds whisper, weaving forward like a ribbon, whipping back to nip at your cheek.
As the earth slows, all to rest, asleep my children shale be.
Leaves turn, changing from birth to dawn, cascading from green to yellow, from gold to red to brown. What once covered us with shade, now cover to paths we knew so well.
And as the time changes the season, the spirits of frost and stone take with them the wisdom’s, too ancient to keep hold.
Children lay dreaming, now nestled in the folds of father time’s course arms, encircled in his wife’s coming spring. All are at peace, protected by the elder oaks, from the ravages of winter.
The stars fall, covering the earth in a silver white dust, blanketing the season in crystalline flakes of ice. Slowly, the cold breath of life drifts by.
As sunbeams stream through branches weathered by time, mothers’ milk melts, seeping through carpeted forest floors to her children. While infant seedlings take their first drink, warmth touches the mornings’ crisp air.
Flower buds, and small leaves, sprout from the fingers of the mother to test out this bright new world. As energy courses through the air, the children lift their heads from the warm embrace, to soak in the anticipation of life.
The day explodes with force; love, lain dormant, ignites with the pollen of air. The morning bird catches the dawning dove and sours throughout the warmth of new breath.
In an instant, spring is born.
Natures’ rivers reach passionately over sandy beaches, tickling the feet of springs’ now adult children.
The sun yawns through lazy fields of grass and grain. Love frolics from shade to shade with a spirit it holds dear.
The spinsters’ wheel weaves and turns through time. The goddess speaks, though do we listen…….As the leaves turn…….green to….yellow….to…gold to……..
Author's Notes: This poem is for a coven who recently moved, or formed in Arizona. A coven in the valley recently expressed a hardship in not knowing how to celebrate the seasons in a state that seems to only have summer and a monsoon season.
There are forest and various stretches of land in AZ that can literally symbolize the embodiment of each season. Further, there are places in AZ that embody the spirit of each element as well... That is, if you know where to look.
Coven, go exploring; find a guide in the valley, use this poem or your own experiences to guide you.
Trust in the goddess. Blessed be.
Author's Location: Phoenix, Arizona
More Poems: OakWisdom has posted 8 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about OakWisdom - Click HERE
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