Magic is born
as a shift begins
and the air
fills with possibility

the Moon
impassive
pours over us
as we begin to dance

our roots twine deeply
as our blood sings
a soul alive
over thousands of years

and we give our gratitude
to the moon
and the sky
and the rains and sun
that nourished us

as our feet
kiss the ground
bathed bone white
beneath the bright sky ~ Caroline A. Slee