Some places in this world are
Hiding under sunlight,
Only revealing their magic
And true nature to those
Who visit them
In a darkness thick and velvety
Under a gentle moon
We have named
This time of darkness
"The witching hour"
Because moonlight illuminates
Keyholes the sun could never find
On its own
The sun is far too bright
Too blinding
To show the casters
What they seek
Sunlight gives the moon
Some warmth to help it through the night
Then each beam is refracted
And guided down by starlight
So we may use the Earth's great power
To bless our ancient rite
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Poems
PoetryI write poetry to try to cope with my emotions and find a path forward. Here are some poems I wrote when I needed to figure things out.
