Circling the Square
the time has come!
the day is here!
this small myth of transition
unfolds before your eyes
& so the song begins!
i see the children of the sun & stars
wandering lost
beneath the dreaming moon
exiled by houses of venus & mars
wandering lost, singing a mournful tune
i see the children of the wishful night
warlocks & witches
of our youthful blood
their apple-dappled eyes
all burning bright (unknown by
adults) cloaked in rosy rood
but why are we condemning them to shame
imprisoned
by our judgments
of their dreams?
& why do we define them by our name
for culture
never knowing what it seems?
the wheel of seasons
turns on ever more
while we curse winters, new years come to fore
& so the song ends
for now (but
nothing ever really ends) & thus
this is to be continued…
imprisoned by our judgments of their dreams?
I like this phrase.
Thanks!