An Evening Walk To An Ancient Yew Tree in Somerset

In the warm green evening light, we walk hand in hand,

with our Hearts smitten with Love; along a stony narrow path.

The pink sky tints our eyes and pale green hedges rustle with whispering birds.

The green of earth echoes in the wind;

its wild power ringing in our ears, lifting smiles to our faces.

 

We kick stones and walk through the dust with confident strides,

Knowing the True Day is Infinite.

Onward, we scent the charm of purple Lupins stirred by the throne of air.

Earth Spirits peek their heads around the petals with curious delight,

Only turning away when a cat crosses our path.

 

In the distance upon the shoulders of the hills, Apples sing of Mystery.

Their Voices rest upon our lips and we see in the turning of the sky

the True Joy of a Silent Heart.

Our Eyes deepen and rise like the Sun.

The mustard-seed air is crowned with Gold!

 

Up the narrow church path,

we pick blackberries and talk of Witchcraft.

Our pristine Prayers rattle forth from our tongues.  

The true Priest (The Soul) grants our Wishes.

 

Through the gates, the Yew Tree stands enshrined.

Its Ancient roots tickle our feet. Sensing its Power, we tread softly.  

Its long arms cover the sky like a giant bird.

With great respect, we place our hands upon its body,

feeling the blessed power surge through us like an electric current.

 

We kiss one another and as the Sun descends, our Hearts rise.