And so I whisper into the night
a call unto you.
the wind is dying down
the rustling of leaves
providing movements in sound.
sweet whispers upon my ears
a longing, I so want to hear.
witch-like shadows fill my air
the swirling of flames
as the cauldron burns,
hickory and smoke,
Stir. One, two, three
and then in reverse,
make me a match
One… I’d might catch.
Sent from down below
or up above,
if that’s the direction of my flow,
make me an angel
with a soft hazy glow
by the hand, she shall take me...
but by God’s speed, I must go.
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