Poetry By Willow Dancer

"Calling The Rain"

There's always been whispers part fiction, part true
but which one is which, I know but do you?
Is it rumors and slander that rings in your ears
or retelling of stories passed down thru the years?

Were they wise ones and seers with magickal sight
Or hags on a broomstick that flew through the night?
Did they really eat children or bring chaos and death
and sing to the moon with chants on their breath?

Do you think that in fact they could call forth the rain
or pull herbs from a kerchief that took away pain?
Could they turn into a raven or some other shape
when danger approached to make their escape?

All muddled together both the truth and the lies
perhaps merely women that conversed with the skys.
Call her witch or a priestess what ever your view
traces of her blood are surging deep within you.

But do you stand at the doorway to afraid to go in
they were sisters and mothers and all were your kin.
Not legends nor rumors the descendants obscure
but a birthright and honor that's sure to endure.

You can follow your calling and hold your head high
and sing to the moon and converse with the sky,
You can gather your sisters and call forth the rain
with enchantments and magick and secrets arcane."

Willow Dancer 09/17/06
Copyright 2006-2007

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