Salleys, the willows,
the conduit between the moon and water
and percussion
of the tides of life.
The ebbs peaking to touch both worlds
at Samhain and Solmain, a time now called Bealtaine,
the two times of the year
when the salmon fish challenge the upstream.
Then relaxing to the flows at each equinox
when our wisdom of change must be our own.
A flow time when no salley leaf has been born yet
but is eager to be.
A flow time when no salley leaf has fallen
but embraced by the sun
is called upon to join
the regenerating earth once more.
Salleys tease childhood fancies
and enchant our waking dreams as we pass by.
Salleys speak to us.
Its why harp makers make soundboxes from them.
We weave salleys
to weave in our wishes and prayers
to be released at the ebbs of the meeting worlds.
We wear salleys
to attract friendship and love,
that graft us to an instinct of honour,
So salleys please breath on us.
It was to here that your spirit guided us.
To here where our names are blessed upon us.
To here where the water you share baptises us.
To here where you charm us
into accepting who we are
and who we will become.
to read an explanation of this story poem please click here