I call to thee Spirits of the Northern realm Where the deep roots dwell Tendrils of Magick yearning Fathomless and ancient That hallowed crucible From which life springs And the everlasting Pine Grows Strong To You I harken well And beckon thee To allow me to stay steadfast ‘Neath your branches.
I call to thee Spirits of the Eastern realm Where Cherry blossoms play upon the wind Wrapping branches to the strings Of a fine tuned Shamisen That ethereal dance Echoing throughout the centuries A reminder in celebratory colours Of traditional remembrance. To you I harken well And beckon thee To allow me to stay spirited ‘Neath your branches.
I call to thee Spirits of the Southern realm Where rolled Oak leaves shelter Forming protective barriers In Old World canopies Rays of light illuminate Inner chemistry That spark which infuses fate With an indomnitable will To you I harken well And beckon thee To allow me to stay invigorated ‘Neath your branches.
I call to thee Spirits of the Western realm Where the branches kiss the river side And the Willow weeps The lady heals all wounds which ache A song deep into the soul A whisper in the twilight realms Voices in the rain A curtain between veils To you I harken well And beckon thee To allow me to stay fluid ‘Neath your branches.
– Joanne Morris 2017
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