Samhain

Samhain

the darkness rises
the air, cold and crisp
the trees move little
as if waiting.
the great white eye of Brighid
watches and waits.
silence greets me like the children
only moments earlier.
the white pricks dance
like distant pyres.
a naked breeze comes out of the ground,
like gasous ice it penitrates the skin,
making me squirm.
i sense visitors surrounding me
dark visions of the past.
sightless eyes void of any color
gliding around like ballet dancers
they circle.
timed as if its choriographed
but to what is impossible to tell
i set the spark within the brazer
and watch as Brighid dances before me
her red and golden mane
throwing pricks of light
to the beat
a boy hurries over and joyful of the warmth
settles in my lap his slender body
curled up against me as if to ask for protection
there we lay, two beings in the life that is death