Cooltreespirit

The harvest is safely in the barns.
The wise woman pulls the shutters over her windows as the nights draw close in.
Safe by the hearth fire the children play games of timeless energy. While the old man sits and tells stories of wild woods and angry seas.
The candle burns down now. Close to its base as the young ones slumber by the fire, but still the old man speaks and warms the silent air.
It is quiet now, no light can be seen. Only the wise old woman sees all that is and is to be.
Softly she walks among the stones, collecting as she goes; wood and bones for her fire that brings live to all.
In silence she sits in the pale moon light, wiating for dawn when children wake and the old man speaks and bids her "merry morn".

Sleep well my lord as you lie beneath the cloak of your lady.
It will soon be time for you to arase renewed and reborn.
One day I too will lie with you, safe in the hidden relm. Until the day of my rebirth. As I have been with you a myriad times before since the beginning of time.
How I long for the sweet embrace of my mother and your dear lady.
To know the sleep that is her gift and to dream once more the dream of eternity.
Life is mine for one small moment, then to sleep again and be renewed.
Just one small drop in an ocean of dreams.

So mote it be!

Harvest mice are scurrying from where they have made theri nest.
The great mechanical harvester thunders as it tears the corn form its body.
Mankind rapes the land which has given him life without thought or feeling; forgetting who he is.
Is there still a man who remembers? One who is called by the gods and hears?
It is time to stand and be counted, as the goddess brings her harvest in!

Blessed be.

Standing on the sea shore, listening to the waves crashing onto the shingle beach. An eary glow pervades the air and the mist before dawn is heavy and magical.
There is a strong smell not of sea water but of honeysuckel and of mayblossom. I turn around quickly to see what it is that feels so enchantimg, that seems to pull me with invisible cord.
There berfore my eyes I see three shining folk dancing round a magical fire. Chanting and singing as they stir their cauldron of pure shining copper.
I am fixed to the spot. i cannot move. My limbs have all but lost their strength.
One of the three comes over to me, dances round me three times and says to me "what ails thee, human? why do ye stand and stare so?
I cannot speak, nor dare I; for I have heard tell of the shining folk that dance on midsummers eve.
Next he pokes me in the rib with his long sharp staff. "Answer me for tis grave rude of ye not to."
I stammer out "ppplease don't hurt me. ppplease spare me". I am too scared to say any more.
He laughs out loud; a hearty belly laugh. "Come my friend. Join us in our merryment. For tis solstice eve and a fine oen for dancing". He takes me by the hand and suddenly I am animated. I dance and dance like a soul possessed. I cannot stop the music seems to take over my body; impelling me to sway and dance in its spell.
I must have been dancing for hours when first light of dawn fills the sky. The sun king rises slowly, pausing then rising in all his glory.
I am again motionless: transfixed by the magnificence of his glory. Unaware that the scene that had so enchanted me but moments before had melted away in the radience of the midsummer sun.
When I regained my senses I looked arround confused. Was it a dream? I don't know!
Spared for another year I amble slowly home to ponder over last nights visions, before falling asleep besides the log stove.