The Waning Moon on Samhain
The wheel turns and the year rolls
The moon is waning like the world
In majesty the Goddess passes
The crone’s crown with its silver horns
Above her pale and unseen face
Her night black star spangled hair
Veiled in the wispy smoke of Autumn
Flows unbound and trails across the world
She has left the Sky King’s oaken bed
Where they lay together in the golden light of summer
She has risen up and robed herself in darkness
Now She passes through the Samhain fire
Trailing darkness like a train behind her
Bound now for the Sky King’s bed of holly
To lay with him at the brink of the year
As She makes her stately passage through the land
Her pale white belly is already swelling
With the green child growing in her womb
As the year rolls and the wheel turns
Poem © 2013 The Owl Underground
