The Besom has swung, the rite is done. Black feathers that drape surround me, Calling me in, with rattle & drum This beat I can not deny me. Threads have been spun Gathered & bound Casting the old into bundle It's released to the flaming pyre. The loom is prepared The warp has been strung Like a harp ready to sing. This new way will be woven With a rattle & a drum Pounding in my head As I struggle to straddle One foot in the real world And one in the grave A bridge that will beacon Through the storms that clear the way. Illusions are dissolving With the hammering of the rain Carried by winds that rage. An elemental deconstruction Of a way that seeks self gain. Caressed by a paw with no claw Nose to lips, the gentlest kiss, to remind me It's time to dig deep now Return to our caves Relish the darkening To find the stillness within A silence that reflects us with grace. Deep, deep and deeper The beat of the heart is calling Gathering us in an embrace Guided, held and connected No longer in separation I sit upon tigered cushion Wrapped in red silken shawl Ringing bells that shatter the illusion Smashing the concrete of mind A vajra heart of Adamantine Black feathers that drape Held like a cape to surround me Crowned with antler & fur A slithering rune staff holds the gate. I feel all my age now Infinitely before & behind As ancient as the breeze & the bedrock I beat this rhythm and find I am Ancestor.
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