Cerridwen comes to me
with sunken eyes and parchment skin
black cowled.
Thin arms outstretched

and smelling of death.

Atrocious mystery combined.
Yet her skeletal fingers hold seeds –
new potential and growth.

The depths of her shadowy eyes
burn bright
glitter with promise.
She offers me transformation.

Death – a beginning
The turning of the wheel
Urging me to taste her brew –

Written by Deep~Glade, July 2009


Leave your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s