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She... lazing low in the saddle of night tonight... This glowing One... Calm... Cool... Full of thoughts of Her own. A bit weary, perhaps, from carrying the season so long. Bearing her growing pains in inner silence while pouring forth Her light and music upon the world eager demanding to be moonstruck whether She will or no. Slow she walks Her circular path... pondering like a coin caught in mid-toss while below, they wait to call her Fate. Standing still in the Circle Breath....held. As drumbeats--wash waves against distant shores. And dancers--weave the ancient patterns. And fawns--gaze wide-eyed into Her ring of wolves... For innocence... is never enough for life and death to pass unnoticed... And still... She rolls over all. Heedless. Heartstrong. Pulling the sinews of thought as tight as bowstring. Reaching out to gather you in... And cast the runes of Her spell again. back to index |