I Benandante

We dance under the walnut in smock We curse the Lapwing in gold and white The veil is placed upon its eyes Our lake is hidden from his sight Upon eight legs I draw the circle near I wept with the twin death in Cremona They were not veiled from his gaze My blood was taken from me then From Veglio I felt the rope My death shall right this day Upon a sword of fennel Dark tombs safe in silence Beautiful Pilgrim high on her steed In weathered skin I walk my mountains With fear and illness it is I they seek Where is the child of my heart? Maiden arms the sun turns brown Mother's wisdom upon my birth Born under caul and smile This earth holds my blood and joy From afar a young Oak taught me faeryluna.com