Oh, sweet lover,
How I adore you,
Yet how I dread you.

The lose of you,
Would be my death,
I need you more than life.

We dance around,
The dance of life,
You warn and I ignore.

But sometimes dear,
I heed your call,
And that is why I live.

A heart black veil,
Quickly she dances,
First born,
An ancient youth,
Twirling round,
A black veil spining,
Playful dances,
Spinning youth.

A pure white veil,
Now she's walking,
Second born,
But mother of all,
Hand in hand,
Her consort-lover,
*** and love,
and marriage vows.

A blood red veil,
Now she's standing,
Third born,
And oldest still,
All is done,
But none is finished,
Knife in hand,
The altar bare.

Two months he swam,
Up through the well,
His scales flashing in the dark.

Twisting, turning,
Swimming, soaring,
Through the Veil of Worlds.

Into the light,
He pokes his head,
Sun flashing of his scales.

Reborn at least,
After Winter's grave,
Reborn from down below.

Two months ago,
He heard the call,
His Bride invoked his name.

And now he rises,
From the grave,
To live and love again.

Heat of sun,
In Spring's cold wind,
Coiled on a rock.

Prepare he does,
For May's fine feast,
And Marriage to his Bride.

At the centre of the web the spider sat,
And felt the wind blow by.
Each gust, each gale, rocked her web,
And she sat calmly by.
Each strand went out from where she sat,
She knew where each one went.
One for Fate and two for Time,
And three for everyone.
When each one spoke, when each one sang,
She knew from hence it came.
She listened calmly to the wind,
And listened to each strand.
Those that taught and those that learned,
And those that truly saw.
The web is many strands she knew,
But knew the web was one.
And the expanse of web around,
Began with just one thread.

I stand alone at the Gates of Dusk,
A fire blazing in the sky.
The trees are shadows, the clouds they glow,
The water reflects the light.
A sun half down but still half up,
Dying but still alive.
A time of change, a liminal time,
A time that is between.
She stand before me and opens the Gates,
The oldest but latest born.
She beacons forward to follow the sun,
Down to its lonely grave.
Alone I stand with only her,
The enticing and love Dusk.
But back I step from that fair breach,
And turn my eyes to home.

As the metal hare settles to sleep,
The water dragon stretches and stirs,
The world serpent around the world,
A curled serpent in a cave,
Slowly stirring, his coils spread,
In the underworld he's made his nest,
And waited through the coldest time,
Darkling serpent, shining snake,
His head he raises and starts to move,
Crawling forth on fair Bride's day,
Up the Well of Worlds he comes,
Across the Veil from world to world,
He hears the call of a thousand flames,
Candles lit and fires bright,
The heat, the light, it calls him forth,
Through deepest dark and waters cold,
Up he crawls, reborn from death,
Cthonic darkling, to worlds above,
Ravens dance the dance of death,
And flames the flicker, the spark of life,
The Bride she calls, the serpent comes,
Reborn and new, the strange Horned Child,
And a ring around the moon.

She is not a spotless ******
not a flawless bride
not without blemish
not young and in her prime.

Her scars are like canyons cut in her skin
the Grand Canyon
Zion Canyon
the Marianas Trench.

Her skin it ripples with stretch marks
like hills rising and falling
ridges and valleys
from the moment of plates.

In her sickness a fever rages
like wildfires and forest fires
grass fires and oil fires
burning away the sickness bringing new life.

She hasn’t shaved and seldom does
hair standing up on her skin
like trees and bushes and shrubs
uneven all different covering her skin.

Blood and **** bubble up from her skin
blood spewing forth like lava
flowing down the mountains of Hawaii
**** shooting forth like ash covering the land.

She is not spotless not flawless not young
but the scars of her age show her beauty
each scar a work of art adding to her perfection
Would we have the Earth any other way?