The Tree, Leaves paper-white and veined with black within a forest of the same Brilliant - winter scape yet autumn still A figure in the mist Silent, thoughtful, Contemplating mother earth Grey-robed wanderer, Father, Sage Stoops to scoop a handful of the very Earth He Raises it With reverence and Smells the leafy loam Scent of his Lady and Aah! the Sweetness! He raises his white bearded head to the sky, and bays his call to the mother Moon: My Lady! I have given all and I grow weary of this place, this life. Come, take me with you Her leafy hand comes down, Gently Brushes his head in the growing dusk he falls at last A lifeless husk Below the tree the body withers and becomes as leaves to blow away in the winter wind. Above, If you look, You will see the Lord and Lady, wispy, filmy spirit shapes United once again heading for the Summerlands. It is Samhain.2 by DragonAngel1