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Crones
Five gray, silver, and white haired crones Navigated slimy green stones Like tight rope walkers Having been summoned by the wind talkers They crossed a shallow creek Each feeble and weak They entered consecrated woods Wearing cloaks and hoods Upon awareness of being pursued Their minds were filled with frantic thoughts of how to delude The shadow of death With quickened pulse and breath One step ahead of the reaper With soothing thoughts of being embraced by the time keeper Five naked, old women swayed hand in hand around a fire As the flames got higher and higher They called the watchtowers of East, South, West, and North And owl, bat, and snake to guard the circle as they issued forth All while chanting hail and glory To the goddess of folklore and story Hecate-protector of witches Grantor of youth, abundance, and riches Torch and key bearing Lady of the crossroads Divine matriarch of ancient wisdom and hallowed codes The crones mixed a cauldron brew of aconite, mandrake, and myrrh Intoxicated by the fumes-their vision began to blur They drank their potion from a dragon engraved silver chalice Upon the wings of ecstasy they ascended to Hecate’s palace With the matron’s touch their third eye was opened to sight The could see all that was once concealed and interpret at the speed of light They began passing through life fast forward then reverse Five old women joined together to avoid life’s inevitable curse They danced and chanted from midnight to dawn Wrinkles and sagging-fading-then gone Eyes locked, stumbling, and entranced Being transformed and enhanced Gifted with immortality Enlightened by the superior mentality They Rhode the lightening back to the earth realm To walk forever in the shade of the witches elm Five blonde, red, and brown haired ladies Escaped from the brink of Hades Departing from the Goddess’ embrace Five youthful women left their Divine Mother’s sacred, secluded place With her guidance, they strolled out of the woods, and jumped a shallow creek No longer feeble and weak They returned to civilization Disguising themselves and their realization For they would be persecuted and walk through the flame For bearing Hecate’s name But one day upon hearing the Lady’s command They shall rise up and once again take her hand
Copyright © 2024 Deborah Kelley. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs