Catechism for a Witch’s Child

When they ask to see your gods

your book of prayers

show them lines drawn delicately with veins

on the underside of a bird’s wing

tell them you believe

in giant sycamores mottled and stark

against a winter sky

and in nights so frozen

stars crack open

spilling streams of molten ice to earth

and tell them how you drink

a holy wine of honeysuckle

on a warm spring day

and of the softness

of your mother who never taught you

death was life’s reward

but who believed in the earth

and the sun

and a million, million light years

of being

J. L. Stanley

This weeks CoH is being hosted at momSCHOOL