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The origin of the seasons

Jean Prinsloo Avatar    Block poet from commenting on your poetry

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The origin of the seasons

The time of change is bearing now.
Magic sparks covers a mystic brow.
An ancient tale this night will bring,
of ages past and those to come.
Dancing naked the four witches sing,
around a fire on a pulsing drum.
The spirits will arrive on their chant,
the elements itself will heed their reason.
The moon will bless their spell and grant,
the changing of the current season.
Know now that for ages these mages
gathers around four times a year,
bringing forth new hopes and fear…
The names bared by these immortal Sages
were given to each season in admiration
for a job well done since our creation.
And when this night has drawn its end,
they will depart to a world of their own,
awaiting the message that the wind will send…
Confirming the next season to be sown.

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