Sheoak

Wind crying through the

Sheoak tree, your

Soft sighed moan of

Delight and sadness,

What tales do you

Bring for me?

I bring tales of

Sadness and change

And also of power,

Your power to

Become that vessel

For the world, the

Whole world.

I whisper words of

Mystery, threads woven

Tight into baskets that

Bear riches

Tapestries that

Tell unspeakable tales.

I kick up dust of

The east of the day

Of the overheated

Though now cooled

And bring to you a

Lost clarity that

Is to be returned

Renewed sense of

Belonging, a being

A child of the

Stars, yes, but

Mainly of the Earth.

Go now, sleep,

Dream, for we shall

Come closer in that

Land beyond the land, 

And show the fullnesss

Of what you may

  Become.