REMEMBERING AVALON

Innys Wytrin ,
I recall...The sweet smell in the air,
The rug of flowers in the ground,The cool breeze in the hair...
The sounds of giggling and laughter Of the young ones in the garden,
While weaving flower garlands To their heads and garments.
Island of Apples, I recall...Peace and joy, prayers and songs,
Smooth hills with their green mantle And the Tor, high and strong.
The Goddess was everywhere To see, to feel, to touch, to love
And the little folk helped us care Of the sheeps, the cows and the crops.
The golden gate to the Otherworld Was easy to find and open to all
Who wanted to join the Faery Folk In their rituals and their festivals.
From inside the Tor, the sacred springs Came rushing and washing all our sorrows.
Brighid, the healer, and the Faery King Blessed those waters of diferent colors.
The mists around us, divine protection,The wonderful feeling of being alive,
In peace with the land and all creation, The Sun, the Moon, the seasons, the tides.
I long to go back to my ancestors home...My soul weeps and so does my heart,
I dream and I sing the old folk songsPlaying the strings of my inner harp.
Myria / Branwen April / 99
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