In the sacred woven threads of the web,

your dreams they filter through.

Bringing the spirits to touch your heart,

watch over you in all that you do.

 

The starry skies of wishful nights,

when your heart feels lost and alone.

you have the promise of the ancient ones,

They will always carry you home.

 

Back to the fires in the circle of love,

from the beginning of history eternal.

As though they kept a record of time,

unspoken words in a journal.

 

Nothing bad ever escapes the web,

the Grandmothers keep them there.

Unbeknown to you perhaps,

But in their wisdom they are aware.

 

Never doubt the power from within,

nor the Warrior of your brothers past.

Fate may often play a cruel hand,

but their bravery is unsurpassed.

 

Like the host that still surrounds us,

on this land upon which they roam.

With the simple breath of the gentle winds,

your heartaches will fly away home.

12/10/00

copyright HairDark aka Katherine Raborn