"The Morrhigan's Feather"

February 12, 2003

By Autumn Laird

Her smile lights across the face,

Glimmering a knowledge hidden,

Secret laugh both fearful and joyous,

Dualities made in black and white,

Her arms are draped heavy with robes,

Fabric pleated ceremoniously into her arms,

Slithering as she walks forward,

Eyes cold upon my soul,

Frozen in the procession of her gate,

Raven hair black as a cloudy night without moon,

Falling long as the robes and curling into her face,

Dreary unbleached white fabric moving,

Her arms extend to reveal a feather,

Iridescent black pruned from the night,

Her arm sweeps in motion to let the feather touch,

Preening it to a thrum to strike forth power,

The house shimmers with energy,

Dividing in two halves of a balance,

Positive and negative – good and bad,

She walks on dragging it in enchanted steps,

The path forward in this split house,

As energy swirls and parts in her wake,

Like a fault opening the earth,

And opens wide the barrier to cross,

The future of things to be,

In precognitive eyes she laughs at me,

Mocking to challenge the world,

To strike a balance of black and white,

When the shades are so much more apparent,

In all that is in-between light and dark.