Poem for Beltane Night

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem for Beltane Night

This Beltane is marked by storms.

Much later, all quieted, I go out

to find the full moon high behind trees –

blue moon this month – and next to her,

clear, close as a lover, Mars.

This night I have no lover of my own 

to help me celebrate. Even the cats are all gone

who used to come with me at midnight

into the circle of my patch of earth, my garden 

and my sacred trees, to greet the moon.

Yet the whole earth pulses with love

in this time of alive silence: a throb beyond

our ears to hear, yet not beyond our feeling.

The street, empty of people, is full 

of presences co-existing, just out of sight.

They come in peace. I greet them so.

Somewhere else, there is fighting,

there is pain, there is death, there is grief.

Tomorrow I may have to face them,

those conditions, but tonight –

I stand in love. My heart embraces the Universe 

as my hand blows a kiss to the moon.

Inside, I pour a nip of ginger wine.

I write a poem for Beltane. (Poetry as fertility.)

Pieces of dark chocolate melt in my mouth.

 

Photo © Roxanne Robins 2020, used with permission (for this use only).

 

Sharing with Writers' Pantry #44 at Poets and Storytellers United.