Sun's Up

Sun’s up

The orchestra of morning sounded from one
Cow to another
And in response, the commuter traffic.
The countryside dressed in yellow and orange
And through its openings, birds swiftly glide.

“Sun’s up” whispers Peyton into my ear
Like a carnival had just turned up it’s lights
And was taking customers.

I know these days are being erased moment
By moment, but as we move into tomorrow,
These words will remain written for these
Days of sun and autumn.

-SJP 30-Oct-2006

In The House of the River Witch

She sleeps at night,
With the covers ready to sail.
The haunted meadows
Tail around in play
Till dawn’s burning ray.

A pinch and sprig
She brings in
To make a tonic
That bitters the tongue.

She knows the path that is hidden
And can touch your soul with passing glance
The river witch holds fast
To the secrets and blessings untold.

She is the river witch that stories are told
She is the river witch that moves in gowns of gold
Wise is the river witch
Who lives shoreline

Wise is the river witch
At ley line’s edge
Where she empowers her spells

Arcana voices of ancient times design
And the seven blessings shine down
crowning this field with erratic sound
A girl finds some sticks and makes music
With the elements
Singing upon found ruins and
Waltzing the wood
Ash in her hair

While a child awakes
With the scent of smoke on her tongue
A dream-spell translated on her face
And given to her mother
Picked up from the crib

She is the river witch that stories are told
She is the river witch that moves in gowns of gold
Wise is the river witch
Who lives by the river’s edge

Wise is the river witch
At ley line’s edge
Where she empowers her spells


© 19-Oct-2005 Sonja J. Phinney

Souler Winds

The goddess wind now whispers your soul eternally.
She took the wings and
Turning them in her
Hands, called you there.

Forever playing the airways
Wild as you wished to live
Your life.

-Sonja J. Phinney 10-10-07

Antennas

On a rocky moraine we correspond.
Echoing and reflecting out to each other
like rebel mountain goats pushing upward.

The night strikes obsidian.

St. Elmo’s Fire in a moment lighting up our lives.

© -Sonja J Phinney 06-Sep-2007