as i lie in the shade of a twisted tree, or walk in the shadows of the midnight wood; i feel the cold october wind cleansing my soul;
a primal, wild magic thrumming through my veins,
filling me with memories of an ancient past.
one with the burning leaves, one with the turning wheel.
distant stars between branches beckon, as frost kisses my face, and spirits dance all around me in the darkness.
filled with reverence, my heart sings in silence, as i am blessed by the light of the harvest moon.