whitens night's field
upon tomorrow's shore.
Tomorrow is the blessed eve
Lords and Ladies, leaping,
dancing, holy abandon, ecstatic rites.
In dense, secret forest, legends gambol, rise
honorably to masters, age in inebriates.
Spirits imbue damp, fresh scent.
Words melt, evaporate, flavor brew
of ancient melodies, renewed
each Winter's Eve.
Picture each animated creature enlightened
Each candle warmly, brilliantly ignited
Animated faces dance with excitement
Creature comfort gifts encircle trees
Enlightened pleasures whirled in peace
The magick of night
The clearness of cold
Stars glittering tales so old
Cradle, caress, with blessing
Saints, sages, wizards, mages
Message writ on high, in constellations
we stop to see, to read.
Cold is slowness, a force
of inertia, a space,
a pause in time.
Dark carries reflection -- any
fancied face or fortune
could be in reach.
call in hues, in moods.
We praise passages, echo rites.
Children chasing Moonbeams
to believe in hope, joy, love
because we need the light,
the warmth, the colours.
Joyful Season to all ~