The flames of a thousand fires
Lick the darkness with acrid tongue,
This is a night for the Gods
The dead can sing their haunting song.
Taste the air and feel the power
Swirling spirits serenade with ghostly moans,
The living transfixed in mystic wonder
Stare wide eyed amongst the ancient standing stones.
The sacrificial gifts cry from the silent giant
The wicker man guards the moon touched hill,
An offering for the gods blessed with Beltanes fire
The Druids summon Cerunnos for the kill.
The darkness of long winter nights
Held at bay by a funeral pyre,
Britain, the blessed land of the gods
Still lights the skies with Beltanes fire.
Phil Hall September 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment