by Beth Weaver-Kreider
“It has happened before—it will happen again.”
—last words in The Magic Cauldron by Margaret F. O’Connell
Fortune shifts her skirts.
The Wheel of Fate turns.
Fire burns the village,
but saves the traveler
lost in the wilderness.
Death has visited this valley before
and, like winter, she will come again.
Will you dance at her return
as you celebrated her passing?
Will you sing the songs on the open plain
that you whispered in the hallways of sadness?
What has once been will be again.
What you have seen will show itself
in seasons yet to come.
The bud that bursts from the twig today
will burst again from another branch
in another place, another year.
Do you hear the music now,
that echoes over the hill?
Poem a Day: 7