Maiden, Mother, Crone

 

She stood in the dark forest clearing, the shadowy light of the moon sifting through the encroaching clouds. A light breeze moved through the trees behind her, creating little whispers of sound in the night. With each breath, she felt the power surging within her. She lifted up her arms, and slowly began to chant:

Maiden, mother, crone …

maiden, mother, crone …

maiden, mother, crone …

The chant began to build momentum in her mind.

Maiden, mother, crone …

maiden, mother, crone …

maiden, mother, crone …

Three as one … maiden, mother, crone.

Brilliant bolts of lightning flashed their silvery light in the dark sky above her. The rumble of thunder boomed louder and louder. She watched, in feverish anticipation, as the three ghostly images appeared in the sky. Their hair flowing around them, their arms outstretched, shimmering in the night sky, they began their sirens song:

Come walk with us,
walk in the light of the moon,
walk the path between dark and light.

Come walk with us,
know the darkness,
know the light.

Come walk with us,
come live in our world,
welcome the knowledge of the night.

Hair flowing around her, the solitary figure heard the ancient voices, and yet again felt the ancient call. Power pulsed through her veins as her soul began to slowing disintegrate, shooting through the lightning bolts into the sky to join the three shimmering, ghostly figures waiting there for her.

© August 2006 Bonnie Cehovet

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