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