The dance of Shiva is light |
Eternal stillness strayed into lake.
Her mood scabbed into winters,
Dark nights rear of the shoulder solidified,
The old recorder be not me.
Leaf, fossilised boredom the barren hints,
hereupon the temptation,
Death's calling in.
Eostre dies Solis, Love of Ostara.
I stand between the words and create my sacred ground.