The Witches’ Tree

Tradition, Innovation, and My Path In Between

And, lo! There grows a faery tree,
where do four roads and powers meet
And on it many roses bloom
With starlight; a myriad of hues
Into its secrets we are drawn
By midnight, sunset, noon, and dawn
And the mysteries of the deep
Well of stars where the Old Ones sleep
And dream of future things now past
To draw together the small and vast.
And thus conjoined; two flames in one
The witches’ fire has now been won.

I have been practicing some form of witch...