Mists Between the Worlds, a poem of Candlemas

The mists that part,
  By Bride's Day light,
Are mists between the worlds,
They open wide,
  The gates of night,
And allow things to pass both ways,
What died before,
  Comes forth once more,
The serpent's wings are spread,
On Hallow's Eve,
  That sacrifice,
Begins the year again,
Forth from the well,
  Between the worlds,
Scaled form returns once more,
A new year dawns,
  In dark moon light,
And all begins once more,
Upon her forge,
  New year is wrought,
By hammer and by flame,
The raven's call,
  The hope of all,
As she forges the year again,
Now the births,
  In springtime snows,
In cold and solemn moons,
Keeper of Ways,
  Builder of Paths,
Takes now the regency,
Misrule is done,
  That tide is turned,
Bride's Time has come again,
The Trouble Moon,
  It parts and passes,
The Lost Moon begins again.
And awakened now,
  The serpent old,
Begins a journey home,
As they open wide,
  The gates of night,
And allow things to pass both ways,
For the mists that part,
  By Bride's Day light,
Are mists between the worlds.
~Mists Between the Worlds, a Candlemas poem by Lorekeeper, February 3, 2017

I am the Raven of Dreams, a Poem of Candlemas

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

I pluck the thoughts and memories,

That aren't remembered no more,

Shiny things in thoughts and dreams,

And babbles of treasure lost,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

My beak will tear and rip and pull,

And feed on memory's corpse,

All is food to the one who calls,

And walks the dusk and dawn,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

And finds lost things that none could find,

And brings them home with me,

The babbles I seek I will always take,

To decorate my nest,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

Up mountains so tall that no one can climb,

But I can fly so high,

Across endless plains no on can cross,

But I can fly so fast,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

Across endless seas where all become lost,

But I can fly so strong,

Through dark woods so dark no one can see,

But I cam fly beyond,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

And finds the secrets among all our thoughts,

And finds out all there is,

The paths I fly no one can go,

The treasures are mine alone,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,

Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,

I pluck the thoughts and memories,

That aren't remembered no more,

Shiny things in thoughts and dreams,

And babbles of treasure lost,

In memories long faded away,

In dreams that will live on.

~I am the Raven of Dreams, a Poem of Candlemas

by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis,

February 2, 2016

Reborn from Down Below

Reborn from Down Below
By Muninn's Kiss

Two months he swam,
Up through the well,
His scales flashing in the dark.

Twisting, turning,
Swimming, soaring,
Through the Veil of Worlds.

Into the light,
He pokes his head,
Sun flashing of his scales.

Reborn at least,
After Winter's grave,
Reborn from down below.

Two months ago,
He heard the call,
His Bride invoked his name.

And now he rises,
From the grave,
To live and love again.

Heat of sun,
In Spring's cold wind,
Coiled on a rock.

Prepare he does,
For May's fine feast,
And Marriage to his Bride.

The Call

The Call
By Muninn's Kiss

As the metal hare settles to sleep,
The water dragon stretches and stirs,
The world serpent around the world,
A curled serpent in a cave,
Slowly stirring, his coils spread,
In the underworld he's made his nest,
And waited through the coldest time,
Darkling serpent, shining snake,
His head he raises and starts to move,
Crawling forth on fair Bride's day,
Up the Well of Worlds he comes,
Across the Veil from world to world,
He hears the call of a thousand flames,
Candles lit and fires bright,
The heat, the light, it calls him forth,
Through deepest dark and waters cold,
Up he crawls, reborn from death,
Cthonic darkling, to worlds above,
Ravens dance the dance of death,
And flames the flicker, the spark of life,
The Bride she calls, the serpent comes,
Reborn and new, the strange Horned Child,
And a ring around the moon.