Birdling

the best is yet to come
the nest built to empty
the wings are spread
and drying in the sun
Spring is here - Beltane - the return of the light
bright fire burns
charred bones
visit holy wells
walking sunwise
feasting
festival of optimism
driven out to summer pastures
flowers adorn the horn
sympathetic magic
a needful supply of sunshine
a flowering hawthorn
thorn trees hold spirits
maidens roll in the dew,
collect in jars, left in the sunlight
a Robin that flew into the house
told us we would one day die