E-Mail Moonwillow

Blood Red Dripping

A breath inhaled
Spirit breath exhaled
Bourn upon the dark deep mysteries of the winds.
An icy breeze blown from the North,
Chill upon frozen skin,
Whispering echoes of ancestral voices.
Spiralling in, turning round and around.
Searching for the centre.
Down, deep into the sacred well.
Threads connecting to the Wyrd, sensing all.
Part of all gone before,
Shed skin falls away
Dissolving into the one.

Upon those ancient shores,
Black robes blown by salty unforgiving winds
Hair wet,
As knives slashing tear stained faces.
Bodies weary, yet souls bound,
Fearing not our enemy.

Bound and tied.
Flames searing at innocent ankles.
Silent screams.
Suffocating flames of injustice wracked our bodies.
Cries cast out upon the winds,
Heard only now.
Ears attuned, coming home.

Hands grasping hands across the centuries.
Slicing time.
Binding both ways.
Emotion, transcending time to call together.
Still wanting "it"
Still riding the spirit path 'twixt the worlds.

The Watchtowers cast their shadow upon our destiny.
The fat bellied moon is born once more.
Blood red dripping.
The screeching hare sees all,
To become The Crone.

Moonwillow 12th may 2004