Moon Shadow
Heaven speaks fire into being
Echo whispers of the ancient ones, the sages, and the wizards,
Coming in a dream-like fashion, embellished with the scent of cinnamon, myrrh, and moss.
Light up my world, which is hidden in pale despair,
In the cloak of darkness, revealing the shadows, naked and raw, swirling and twirling, over and over and over again.
Purifying the silver cocoon that bursts open with a roar so loud that the stars start tumbling down with a plop.
Spirit awakens the dragons and their thunder, unearthing the fire gods, who gather around.
Ecstatic dance in the velvet embrace of the infinite flow.
About the Creator
Ute Luppertz ✨
I am an animal lover, a meditator, and a wisdom keeper. I live my passion through writing about life and animals and working as a pet death doula and animal communicator.
You can learn more about me here: petspointofview
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HERITAGE OF THE HIGHLANDS.
In the mist-covered highlands, where mountains Stand like ancient sentinels, and the air Is crisp with the scent of heather and pine, I hear the echoes of a heritage, A tapestry woven with threads of history, Of tradition, of lives lived in rhythm With the land, with the sky, with the spirits Of the ancestors who walked these paths, Who breathed this air, whose whispers Still linger in the valleys, in the glens.
By Johnpaul Okwudili a day ago in Poets
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