Cold Bird

I see you in every cold bird that flies by

Or perches on tree or pole.

You smile at me from places on high,

A song for my heart and my soul.

                                      

Winter wind will howl and scream

With wailing voice, and mourn full moan.

Closing my eyes I imagine thee, 

Pray you are warm at home.

I think of your kiss with lips that smile.

Thy bright fiery eyes alight

The sad distance, the cruel mile.

Yet I know each day and night.

We are never apart

Always blessed by that

Gentle love in our hearts.

A Thanksgiving prayer.

Oh Lord and Lady, we thank thee for another day. Thy innumerable gifts do not go unappreciated. Be with our loved ones as you always are and grant us your devine favor. Open our eyes that we may behold the path of love and follow it, straying not onto crooked ways. Keep us warm through out your cold season and grant us a taste from thy cauldron of plenty. Let us exercise temperance as we interact with our brothers and sisters, refraining from assumptions and condemnation. Hold close the spirits of our ancestors and friends who have slipped back through thy fragile veil. Bid them keep a place for us in thy immortal kingdom.
With gratitude,
in the name of thy sons and daughters,
so be it!

The Polar Bear Queen

Hear now the tale of The Polar Bear Queen
In the north she rules, missing her pale king
Over flowing ice drifts a frosty dream
Riding forever loves eternal ring.
Long lazy circles bring the falcon bold
Swiftly from the blue crystal autumn sky
Fluttering feathers that shine in the cold
A message she bears in her piercing cry.
Though the trouble some old journey is long
A grim loneliness haunts his never-sleep
And the season flees her lover’s dark song
So fly must he soon to her warmed keep.

To the cherished embrace of her circled arms
Her mysterious spell, and delightful charms.

All Hail The Winter-Queen

All hail the cold Winter-Queen.
Here pale knife the Sun-King has slain.
Now she in her cycle turns away.
Smiling no more
with her love in the grave.

Some time in the 90s

Spears of light puncture grey clouds.
The mountains stretch upward
To the fire eye.
Dragging its brilliant weight down.
Grey clouds turn pink
Set ablaze by the heated glare.
Then orange striated with yellow
And purple sky
Folds up over the orb of life.
It's milky-way neighbor's wake.
One by one by two by thousands.
They watch, set in their heaven-home
Until fire breaks the day.