radical druid

On Ostara
That lingering scent on the morning breeze,
light & fragrant as it skips across the lawn,
there like a hint of soft mist in the trees
it plays on the senses and then is gone.
As each new blossom opens to the world,
its tender silken strands embrace the wind
& the spirit of Shakti is unfurled,
its sensuous perfume released again.
Now the waiting earth awakens once more
to the firm touch of the Divine Mother,
as from behind a veil of illusion
She soaks each living thing through to the core,
& there just beyond your sense of Other
unites all life in Her light's diffusion.
20 APR 2003