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Association of Polytheist Traditions

Before the Owl Takes Flight

Copyright © by Robin Herne 2002

Winter's corpse, grey flesh putrid seeps,
Reveals bones rainbow bright, sun weeps.
Warm lips on cold thaws the sleeper,
Sap moistens the dry-veined dreamer.
For Math Hen the cauldron holds fast,
In the colours of eight winds cast.
The potion roils, steam floods incense-thick,
Shields the birth, she stands womb-wet slick.
Lleu's heat strokes her, spreads her wings wide,

Hungry for nectar, wind-blown bride.
Buds open, leaves unfurl for her,
Flowers burst, scent wafts, bees lumber.
Vibrant she dances, life attends,
Beauty grows where her footstep wends.
Rose redolent, daffodil bright,
May blossoms fall, bluebells take flight.
Life is fleeting, colours fade fast,
Drink deep of her, make the taste last.