January 28, 2014

witchwords



oh, he's a fine fat rabbit now…

i like them as well as toads

tell me your sign or symptom 

i will tell you what it bodes

i've no fear of age or endings

i find i like being a hag

i keep the bones of trouble-makers

in my old runic crane-skin bag

i gather the herbs in the hedges

and watch the moon rise over the hill

i smile when you think you won't need me

and i know quite well that you will

some day when the iron in your blood

leaves a metal taste in your mouth

a time when your life feels a flood

or a long soul-powdering drought

you will knock at my door one evening

you will seek out my creaky art

i will see if you are worthy

i will test your burning heart

you may not savour my magic

or the things that i have to tell

the shapes in my fire can frighten

you may fear the final spell

but i can find the straighter path

i can show you what is true

i can heal hurt you didn't know you had

i can bring your soul home to you.



ashes, ashes...

some of the worst days come when we are nostalgic about something we never really had: true love, certainty, time... our memories hold false...