There is a Witch in these woods,
and I know her.
I know her by her eyes,
Taking in the falling of a leaf
As though it were an epic film,
Her gaze wandering from the trodden path
To where water meets Earth and sky.
Lingering on the trunk of
Every tree she passes,
Caressing the rough bark as both
Lover and friend.
At the tiny silver schools of fish
At the gliding turtles
At the track of a cardinal
Through the canopy of trees.
Transfixed by the weaving of branches
By the dance of a dragonfly
By the patterns of light
On the shadow-dappled Earth.
Listening intently to the birds
As if she understands their conversation
And hearing, eyes closed, the language
Of stone and oak and cloud.
Light and sure on the riverbank,
Quiet and unhurried on the path,
With a handful of stream-smoothed stones
Rattling in her pockets.
I know her by her kinship,
By the butterflies who linger,
By the squirrels who take notice
And then go on about their business,
Unafraid.
I know her by her presence,
Seeds and nuts left in offering,
The rise and fall of murmured prayer
The barest touch of magic
Wherever she has walked.
I know the Witch in these woods,
For I have met her reflection
And perhaps if you are lucky
And walk softly on the Earth,
You may meet her too.
This is just beautiful and enchanting! Blessed be!
Posted by: Renee | September 17, 2006 at 04:04 PM
Beautiful. It *is* all about harmony...
Posted by: Blackhawk | September 21, 2006 at 08:24 PM
You've eloquently captured a familiar experience and long cherished feeling. Lovely.
Posted by: Eleigh | October 16, 2006 at 06:49 PM