Amidst the green is joy expelled into
the air to play upon the holy breath
that skips between the oak and yew
in dance before the gods that deftly dress
with human garb.  She spins, her skirt a swirl
of leaf and shining petals shaped and fanned
in subtle seas of glinting colored whorls
that glow melodic chants upon the fragrant land.
To east the golden orb is slowly lit;
his rays a tender touch for waking beasts
ensconced within their winter’s lonely pit,
emerging to perform the Rites as nature’s priests.
The grasses sway beneath the sea of ray and breeze
and silent angels sing amidst the holy trees