THE COLD MOON

I am like the winters moon
Brushed by magic of witches broom
Glowing fire so bright within
Taking the steps to withershin

I am just like that moon so cold
In silence here in dark abode
Still in contemplation distant
Finally in motion resistant

I am the cold moon on the turn
Frozen edge for spring I yearn
Warmth of growth renewal now
Pass the way of sacred bough

I am the glimmer of distant light
The fullest moon brings fairies flight
Into the eye of human existence
Following the path of least resistance