amongst the meadows, a forest
in the forest, a clearing
in the clearing, a fence of thorns
inside the fence, a circle of stones
a man there, drumming
a woman there, drumming
a younger woman, singing
an older woman, whispering, rocking
their shadows bend and waver
making lines of darkness over the grass
dancing with their movements
shifting with the light and cloud-shade
the old woman sees life-lines
like runes etched in sand
taken by the tide
each wave claiming a little more clarity
if the song is rightly sung
if the drumming follows her heart
she may read something there
something precious and true
whirling sun and changeful moon
a tree big enough to hold the world
a sea that birthed all life
transgressions, redemptions
time itself unspools before her
an evil smoke on the horizon
a rainbow reflected in a pool
which is future, which is past
how to choose the strands
how to read the web
all spins, all flares and wanes
and then, she knows
she reads the people's doom
warp, weft, and woof
from the fate-lines dimming now
vanishing into the air
thank you. :)
ReplyDelete