Monday, May 9, 2016


She walks with the grace of ten thousand suns
The shadows fall in behind her
Her eyes are the tales of bittersweet risk
Her lips a goblet of silverlost wine

She is the Maiden whenever she wishes
She gasps with surprise as her legs lock behind
The Mother in her heart as she guides their steps
The Crone in her hands as she washes the dead

She stares at the light and beckons it forth
And follows its course to extinction
She calls to the darkness and echoes its howl
And wears midnight rain as her vestments

She gathers the green where there is only stone
And leaves her footprints in the dust
She is a creature of infinite worth
And it has been an honour to know her


(Pic is courtesy of, all rights reserved by the original artist.)

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