Required Life Falls Away

Required life falls away
on the in breath
of an Autumn moon,
as she eclipses.
Pulling my inner self
towards the Sun
so that it reflects
gold, hidden.
Which is now to shine
against the deep blues
of tales not told
from the mists.
Tales that will not inspire,
will not lead the charge
or lift the heart.
They are the subtle stories
of the Crone.
Stories that bring a nodding of heads,
a murmur of assent,
an unconscious understanding.

That this is how it was and is.

Elaine Speakman

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