By the Dark of the Moon
the Eagle sings his Eulogy...
Last Times arriving.
And who can say what waits
who lives... who dies...
Through all the Realms
the Thread of Change is woven
the Corn King chosen
the Crown - a Key to many Gates -
is given
to Fools and to the Wise
but who will take it?
Is there naught but I?
The Balance of the World
upon the Turtle's back
held up by Atlas
drawn careful by each God
is held by children
in innocent debates
of who goes seeking
and who will hide their eyes...
... a countdown of the Hiding...
and then, the Play...
Dolphins calling softly...
Last Times arriving.
Their sacred Moondance
is washed in salty tears
but who can see
and who would want to hear...
their hearts are breaking;
the Otter dances with the Lake
and yet his smile
is troubled by his Knowing...
One with the Water,
he feels the Sacred Beat
has started slowing.
Where is the Healer
that holds the Phoenix Fire...
Last Times are calling;
the Earthmother cries
in bearing a Child of the Sun...
Healer, it is Time to come.