All things move towards their end.
That is a man who understands
the magic of the Solstices.
In the midst of life we are in death-
the sun burns feverish and bright
and at His height we pause, remembering
This too shall pass; a promise and the warning.
Today is a day to make magic-
Examine yourself in the flights of birds
and the bustle of the bees.
Heed the warning of the buzzing flies.
Reach within. Stand on this apex of desire
and sharpen yourself. String prayer flags
from the trees, from your heart.
watch them stream in the wind that rushes towards winter.
Fashion your desires into a spear
Shape it in the bonfires, in the heat of your skin.
Cast it truly, cleanly, quickly.
Straight to the heart of the year.
The King is Dead; long Live the King.
The brightness cuts the edges of our sorrow
cleanly, our hearts laid bare and singing.
Which song is that one?
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