BLESSED BE!~
 
Equinox moon, rise in all your glory,
and with your rising, my emotions stir.
Upon your face, there unfolds such stories,
which speak of my ancestors...things that were.
 
Somewhere, there must be a book of knowing,
guarding the silence of forgotten needs.
Time-worn, musty, fragile pages,
embracing ancient secrets, hopes and deeds.
 
The face of the moon speaks of the olds ways;
the wisdom of those found on distant shores.
They who knew the land, the forests and fields.
I see misted lakes and a boatman’s ores.
 
I feel their lifted hearts fiercely dancing,
gathered for Ostara’s celebration.
The returning of the light from winter’s dark;
‘tis a time of hope and expectation.
 
The circle of life in each tiny seed,
stirs in the womb of thawing mother earth.
Comes the loving rains and the blessed sun;
from this sacred union is spring...her birth.
 
I speak to the moon of my ancestors
and my beating heart that calls out to them.
I light my candle to honor what was,
as the wind shares their voices...with me...once again.