Cadenza For a Witch
raven whose feathers are hummingbirds.
whose stride
reconciles butterflies with vultures.
her spread wings
a landscape from honeysuckle to bloodroot.
her heart moon-kilned, agile of inner fire,
where dawn and evening kiss.
her crown
around the world births new days,
as she dances wildward,
leaps to gather anise from stars,
or pluck mangos from noon.
she chides landslides.
threads brambles to sew petals.
soothes beaches
as sandy fortunes skip away,
whisked into sparks of receding crystal.
humans alone
cannot be salved by her spells,
shufflling along with their old fears
to muss the weave of her mandalic tresses.
humans,
they have no conjure anymore,
no cauldron to summon ancestors,
no asphodels to tease
from their avarice of laws.
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2/17 -18 ... changed some words for clarity
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