Sliocht
"Sh-luh-kt": lineage, descent, offspring. A poem about venturing to the otherworld in a ritual with Datura.
In the wax filled crescent, the witch mapped her descent into the throat of the earth, through doors that open at the sound of Devil's Trumpet. Moon in Pisces, her eyes glaze over. So it is.
Solstice holds her steady—
green-eyed huntress,
Oh companion,
a pulse that draws you forward,
unwavering.
Sirius stirs in her veins
the
trickster
at her fingertips.
Datura offers her thorn.
The witch —
she prays.
Solstice clings to the rafters above,
in the tobacco dust —
an offering.
Datura petals
melting
on
her tongue—
tantalizing her
into the glade
of her mind
Foxglove in the distance.
Threads begin to spin—
primordial
matresence
igniting the cold house.
The Oracle's spindle
falls
through time.
Solstice follows
into the Foxglove glade
where the Horned Owl waits.
Aine
punctures she temple—
she will not suffer
the sacrifice.
May all the cats who roam outdoors be spared. May they all find warm homes to sleep in, laps to curl into, and their favorite food fed to them whenever they want it.
We miss you Solstice. We have and always will love you.
“A pulse that draws you”, “Trickster at her fingertips”, “in tobacco dust”, “into the glade of her mind”, “spin—primordial”, “the horned owl waits” — the whole poem is great, really feel the imagery of it all and especially those lines are very felt and fully of imagery for me.
Loved this one! I think it might be your best! Did Solstice disappear on the Eclipse?