Sunday, October 16, 2011

. on the verge.

i feel a storm brewing
a change is coming soon
the north winds start a blowin'
and the seas grow dark and loom

i do not know what is to come
if illusions will blind my spark
if my true love will stay with me
or if folly will break my heart

there is a change a comin
a laughter is on the wind
the serpent, it is coiling
and a new path begins

the trees are shedding secrets
a wisdom swirls around
my soul is drenched and pining
and light is scarcely found

and yet i am returning
to the birthplace of my soul
to the shores of Eire's dreams
To the shores of Eire's lore

and in my palm is a glowing orb
of hope and love, no fear
to feel the arms ancestral stars
to hold the darkness near

to know the dark is to know the light
without it we lost
beloved sun and crimson moon
caught in the heat and frost

the mossy stones, the oak and ash
a dance to the mummer's song
for in the spring a reckoning
on the verge of lost and found

fae 16oct11