A Family Thing

It freshens the senses, the springtime breeze,
And fills pure hearts with newness and ease,
But it's during these nights that it brings me no rest,
When September winds put my creed to the test.

How does one get past the moment that's lost?
A relationship torn, burnt crisp - at such cost,
No longer this realm and no longer seen,
Except for these nights - things aren't what they seem!

Her voice, in whispers, she calls out my name,
I question its truth and whether I'm sane,
And hearing her now, so many years later,
It makes me recoil, compels me to hate her.

But the powers of Wicca are more than mere song,
My curse, it endures, through family bond,
And so I'm reminded, and so I will know,
How potent the blending of oak and mistletoe.

At each celebration, Ostara or 'nox,
I'm gifted a spell, been sealed in a box,
And Oh, I must try it! And Oh, so I see!
The powers bestowed me, the powers that be ...

And now when I see silver cat in a tree
~ I know she is with me ~
I know she's in me!