Upon that hilltop wilderness, where winds blew from Northeast,
As morning light began to grow, my eyes beheld a feast.
The snow capped mountains in the east, was tipped with eerie light.
My breath was stole, my heart bestilled, by that congenial sight.
I stood within that holy ring, transfixed by apparition,
And felt a host of angels near, to join me in my vision.
No sight, had I, before this time, No tongue to speak such rhyme,
Yet, here I was, or was I there, my image caught in time.

I stood in awe, within those stones, as nature shifted phase,
But could not then place where I was, but still it took my gaze.
I wasn’t present in this time, my thoughts no more my own,
No wind was felt upon my face, and yet my hair was blown.
No rain did fall upon my cheek, and yet did drench my face,
For I was wind, and rain was I, a Magick taking place.
We all joined hands, became as one, and yet I stood alone,
and such a sense of inner peace, my soul had never known.

The light fast bled across the sky, as ink across a page,
While I stood lost, and yet, was found, no time was there, to guage
. To realise ascension, as I felt my feet descend,
Yet still this absolution, did refuse to make its end.
I felt the earth, with naked feet, so slow my sense returned.
The wind and rain, which lashed my face, into my soul had burned.
No darkness now, no pitch of night, was left within my eyes.
For light had lain a veil upon the land to recognise.
My very soul had touched the Sun, my heart felt such a peace,
And tears, my vision did impair, that this time had to cease.
That Morn, the Carles, did brand my soul, as goodness filled my heart,
And I did gaze on Threlkeld Knott, and could not yet depart.
Impossible to comprehend, events took place that morn
As I did stand, midst wind and rain, to summon in the dawn.

The Moon was ful upon that eve, tho clouds obscured the sight
And sunrise never came that morn, yet I was filled with light.
Within that ring of holy stones, no more could I deny,
Acceptance, is a word I use, no thoughts now pass me by.

Upon the peak of Threlkeld Knott, the snow begins its path,
as thaw, does turn upon the ice, to seek of it its wrath.
And weaving down that mountainside, the snow, refreshs the stream
to be at one, within the lake, as I had in my ‘Dream’.
And yet!, its purpose, so fulfilled, will always be that way,
And deep within the lake, a while, will there so softly lay.
It shall once more, then fall as snow, returning to the peak,
Perhaps, a different pathway down the mountanside to seek.

I was at one with earth and sky, as I shall be with you,
And made my pledges to the winds, to tread a path so true.
My spirit, you may catch one day, perchance you pass that way,
Pray, pause a while, and make your peace, hear what the winds may say.
For life, is that which passes by, whilst walking other roads.
In truth and light, we find our place, and shed our heavy loads.

Maélwys /|\