Night spirit calling me into the darkness of the trees
calling me to where the green one lies
with lichen and moss on her oak-flesh thighs
spirals of woad decorate her skin
calling me wayward, drawing me in
Moonbeams cast on the forest floor
are lighting my way to her secret door
Night spirit calling me into the darkness of the trees
calling me to where the green one sleeps
the mist of her breath on the ivy creeps
white as the owl that take the bird
soft as the cry that she has heard
Night spirit calling me into the darkness of the trees
calling me to where the green one breathes
shadow and light on the falling leaves
wet as the rain that roots the seed
with a promise that's kept in the darkening trees
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