Lughnasadh Shift
Stepping out into sunrise
There is no doubt the Earth
Has turned, deep breaths
Confirm new attitude
Even in the summer desert
New bees buzzing and the
Morning song of mourning doves
Sings of a new harvest
Praises to Creation
In places far away, fresh
Hilltop balefires burn, while
Nimble fingers craft dolls
Of corn harvested fresh
Berries chosen off the
Prickly vine burst juicy, heady
Taste of autumn rolls across
The skies, the scent of wood
smoke
Touched with the promise of rain
Desert dancer, hands aloft, feet
Deep in Sacred Ground, becomes
One with Earth and Sky
This Holy Morning
This new season
This glorious reminder
That life is a circle;
everything
Dies, feeds life and returns
Renewed and refreshed
Blessed to bless
And to remember
© 1 August 2012
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