Through the window,
Green and barren at the season’s pass,
A tree sways to the song of the wind.
My empty ears
Hear no howl or banshee’s screaming curse
To herald Lugh as he crests the hill
I am drawn out,
Careful closing of the door behind
To move near and stand alongside
As she rattles,
Baubles gently shaking at the sky.
And breezes blow, I am lightened up
Now a feather,
White and flexing in the growing breeze
Hug her waist and join in her dance
With madness -
Smiling, swaying to a silent time
That fairy bards breathe onto my skin .
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