Two Witches

There was a wise woman, lived by the sea.
Great was her power, a witch was she.
Her hair black as night, her eyes green as malachite,
Her life filled with magick and prophecy.

While in the same town in another part,
A woman of song, with love in her heart
Weaving musical rhymes 'round those she knew in her time
Was led by Diana into the art.

The witch taught the chantress her mysteries,
And they practiced the wonders of witchery
In circles of light, two women worked through the night
With colors and numbers and imagery.

Then one day, Diana did so decide
This woman of song had to turn aside
From her friend by the sea, and find answers inwardly
A magickal dream was to be her guide . . .
To the answers inside.

As the chantress went into her dreams that night,
Diana sent visions in sparkling light:
"Come awake, now arise," called to sisters with fiery eyes,
Saying, "The truth is not black or white."

And then through the dream mist, a white light shone
On the wings of a raven perched upon a throne.
"A magician am I," he said, and he winked an eye.
"Love casts out fear, you are not alone."

He said, "There is a magickal place I know.
Take a ride on my back, and away we will go."
Their journey was short, they soon arrived in the outer court
Of a wizard who lives where the four winds blow.

The wizard said, "Chantress, revealeth thy name
To the goddess and gods, be it so ordain
To the old ones, to the winds, as a witch your life will begin
when you drink from this cup while the candles flame."

She drank from the cup, and her name she told
To the goddess and guardians and gods of old.
A pentacle of power she received in that magick hour,
Made by the raven from silver and gold . . .
Silver and gold.

Then from the east, north, south, west, and beyond
Swept four winds, and the wizard, and raven were gone.
In a crystal she saw herself asleep as she was before,
Asleep in the moonlight, but not alone.

For someone was standing beside her bed.
'Twas the goddess Diana, softly she said,
"I'm queen of the wise, I'm within, I see through your eyes,
As I am the weaver, you are the thread."

When a dream dreams the dreamer, the dream's the real.
When the song sings the singer, the spell is revealed.
As she saw herself there, the dream began to disappear,
And the chantress returned from beyond the veil.


General inspiration--good images of an enchanted life and the importance of dreams.