Ostara - Mist and Wings Dampness swirling in the lamplight Narnian and silent, she is waiting Watching as the droplets slide down her hair And the net of webs woven through it. Barefoot, she leaves no trace in the snow Save the rain that cascades behind her mist. And the scent of the sky Is enough to drive men mad. She has been sleeping long and long, Beneath the firs sheltering her grave The apples that lay fermenting sweetness last fall Dropped their seeds to sprout above her. And I went walking through the woods Greeting her in silence as befits a god Wishing for the touch of calon lan That comes only with her return. The whipping tale of the comet In the astral winds beyond sight Presaged a late return this year, But the warbler on my window sang her in. © Anne Cross, 1997

Rivenrock Spring mist through the Monterey Pines.