The faces of nature are changing,
For the mother is changing her seasonal gown.
Winter Maiden,
Spring Maid,
Summer Girl,
Autumn Lass,
Brown,
Green,
Golden,
Russet,
The turning of the wheel of time.
Cold, bleak, frozen.
The world in winter.
The mother lies helpless, asleep.
No one can wake her.
Captive, her child cannot remember.
Wearing rags of brown.
Her tresses adorned with herbs.
Obedient to that which chains her.
True love only is what breaks the bond,
Stand and resist, child of nature!
For from eternal winter,
Hope springs anew.
Green, warm, thawed.
The world in spring.
In her sleep the mother stirs
But does not awaken.
Her child changes dress,
Flowing garments of green.
Flowers bloom in her hair
As lightly she steps on the road.
Traveling, she brings about a new season.
Find what you seek, child of nature!
For after great birth,
Bounty shall come.
Golden, hot, tarnished.
The world in summer.
The mother dreams of the sun,
But consciousness comes not.
Her daughter finds herself
In a gown of gold.
Grain grows among her curls
Giving harvest to those who hunger
For she is embodiment of fruitfulness.
Travel on, child of nature!
For in the coming of the harvest,
You shall find what you seek.
Russet, cool, resting.
The world in autumn.
The mother finally wakes
To tell her story to the one by her side.
Her child listens intently, and learns
While her mother exclaims over her russet frock.
Mane drooping, spirits torn,
The daughter's hair yields nothing.
The fruitfulness of summer gone.
But at last, the spell is broken
And the mother slumbers in a healing sleep.
Live on, child of nature!
For even in winter,
The turning is remembered.
And you shall find joy in the turning.
The faces of nature are changing,
For the mother is changing her seasonal gown.
And we sing the Canticle of the Turning.

This poem is inspired by the book Treasure at the Heart of the Tanglewood,
by Meredith Ann Pierce. Thank you for reading.
-Fuu