The Veil

A full Moon casting...

The Veil

Down a mist-shrouded
path she ambles,
Full Moon above to
light her way.
Night's creatures
sing to her,
Faraway realms call
her name.
Brambles catch at her
velvet robes;
Twigs tangle her hair.

They slow her not.

A clearing reveals itself.
Pacing the perimeter,
she places candles
at the quarters.
Casting the circle, she
stands at its center.

She is not alone.

The mist transforms
into opaque shapes
of those who have gone before.
This night the veil between
the worlds is thinnest.