Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Catechism for a Witch's Child

When they ask to see your gods
your book of prayers
show them lines
drawn delicately with veins
on the underside of a bird's wing
tell them you believe
in giant sycamores mottled
and stark against a winter sky
and in nights so frozen
stars crack open spilling
streams of molten ice to earth
and tell them how you drink
a holy wine of honeysuckle
on a warm spring day
and of the softness
of your mother who never taught you
death was life's reward
but who believed in the earth
and the sun
and a million, million light years
of being

J.L. Stanley

3 comments:

Jeanne said...

Happy Samhain, Nariane!
This is a beautiful poem.
Hugs ~ Jeanne

Nariane said...

Thank you Jeanne...
I hope your Samhain was wonderful!

*hugs*

AnalisaGuzman said...

I love this poem!