Samhain
A faery ring encircles the silver orb
hanging in a jewel-filled sky
The dark clouds drift, dream-like
with diamonds peaking through
Empty, claw-like branches reach their
fingers towards the sky, grasping at the
cold beauty above, yearning for a
drop
The night is silent, cold, stark.
not even a whisper, a breath of wind
Festival fires burning bright
on Hilltops in the distance
The cold is peaceful, numbing, loving
as I sit bathed in a silver aura
The sweet melody of water over stones
calls out to me, beckoning me into
this cold, autumnal
night