Sunday, October 29, 2017
forging a book of spells
Macabre danse, dark leaves in high wind.
Swift time to ask that boon of wizardry,
to recite or seize at magic’s will or mine.
To speak, demand, one must first understand
or stand under what’s to come from ignorance.
Breathe leaf and wind, their essence;
skillfully dream peace and blessings;
dance lightly within the danse.
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