Meandering Fury

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it before, but I tend to have fairly regular encounters with the Fey these days. I have for years, but they’ve become more frequent. (I don’t care if you think I’m nuts.) They tend to hang around the Musclewood Tree in the back yard (also called American Hornbeam). Anyhow, I don’t get to write poetry much, save for when I’m really, really inspired with it, and this one came to me about mid-May 2014, when I had my first encounter of this year with my Faery Friends.

I feel the movement deep within,
A stirring within my soul.
I wonder whence the stirring comes,
And if e’er I shall be whole.

I step into the bright of day,
And sit upon the ground.
“This is where,” I say to myself,
“That connection might be found.”

The warmth, it beats upon my skin,
Whilst I breathe deep the atmosphere,
And less of hate and more of love
Permeate me, reclining here.

Grace abounds and love surrounds,
And with the laughter in my ear,
Is that it, the one I seek,
The voice of Goddess I hear?

Suddenly in the edge of vision,
I see them dancing there,
Little lights of meandering fury,
The Fey, drawing near.

“Little brothers and sisters,” I say,
“I’ve yearned for your presence this day,
Won’t you come and dance with me,
Can you not leave, but stay?”

I hear them, though, their whispers,
Saying, “We regretfully must depart,
“But know,” they say, to saddened ear,
“You’re always in our heart.”

I know they will return again,
My friends the Dancing Fey.
But still my heart it longs for them,
Until that fateful day.

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