Reflecting quietly, morning eastern light,
Scrying through the trees and the Mabon fog.
This morning’s poetry flowing on her lips,
The harvest hangs heavy on her aching hips.
Thoughts turn and twist to life with Her lover.
She breathes in the pangs of grief and sorrow.
Time to decrease, ground, and evaluate what awaits
She pulls together the harvest and prepares for her declination.
She takes note of the sun moving into the constellation of Aries,
Dons the cloak of the pioneer, the person forging ahead on Her own,
Once more she prays, chants and she seeks equilibrium,
Picking up her Autumnal chalice, setting her sails to the west.
She steps into the water feeling Her own waning Strength,
Here water mirrors and makes the changes for movement ahead.
She awaits the dark, powerful void of the Underworld,
Letting go, releasing, accepting the secrets of death and rebirth.
~~ © Astarté Earthwise March 2015
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