Wild Magic

A poem that came to me while sitting in the woods one day.

I know not from whence it came,
or why it came at all.
I've been gifted with Wild Magic,
I can hear the spirits call.

I can see them come to me
amid the Pine and Oak,
sometimes I see a glint of steel,
the edge of a dark cloak.

I understand the ice blue moon.
I can feel her wax and wane,
as she awaits her lover Sun
to show himself again.

I can command all things that fly
from Wren to Meadowlark.
I am watching you from way up high
I'm the spirit of the Hawk.

I can light the way for you,
with Mage lights in my palms.
I can create a raging sea,
then bring her back to calm.


I know not from whence it came,
or why it came at all.
I've been gifted with Wild Magic,
I can hear the spirits call.