Sunday, April 23, 2017

Poem: We're In The Highlands by Heather Dawson

We're In The Highlands

How much can I dream
I can dream until asphalt becomes mountains
Until Grey becomes fields of purple
Until someone pronounces my name correctly
Until I smell peat burning in the November air
Until you are wearing the flower of Scotland plaid
Calling to me while the mist rises over the hills
Until you and I are blessed by the priestess
And the broom is jumped
Will you miss the sun
Will you miss the heat
I've taken you away from all that you know

We are Pagans .. We mask our heathen nature
But there we are passionate strong and sly one with earth air and water

Can you be of this place
You claimed it - I can give it to you
We will belong
We will sink in to the marsh
I will feed you whiskey from my breast
And I will love you all the days of my life
I dream

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