In the forest dark and deep
live the wild women of the Sidhe
with hair of black and eyes of blue
and shining skin of silver hue.

Beneath a hill they gather there;
Hag and Mother, the Maiden fair,
‘round a table of ancient oak
breathing in the sagebrush smoke.

Secrets whispered from lips to ears;
hushed so only the feral hear.
Learn they do of impending death.
Destiny carried on rancid breath.

Joylessly their eyes ignite,
fire sparks cut through the night.
The truth within the belly burns,
heavy with what has been learned.

The tale of fate begins to rise,
and on the wind of maddened cries,
finds a way into your dreams;
Best listen up when the Banshee screams.

dchollins - 97 posts

I am a healer and artist on the West Coast of Canada – Vancouver Island. In a setting lush with cedar trees, ravens and misty mornings, I am learning about the Creator and the wisdom of Her Earth. I am a lover of all things wild.


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