The Sťance

We joined hands, binding
the circular gathering
beneath the quiet of the moon

Summoned from the North
a distant wind spoke through the elm
whispering invocations
from trembling leaves

At once existing in both planes
whether roots seek and 
absorb nutrients, so branches
can reach into the sky
whether leaves absorb
sunlight, so roots can stretch
deep into the netherworld
Trees are the perfect medium

Copyright © 2003 Shawnte Orion