As we tended the fire outside at sunset for a ceremony,
the Great horned owl called.
As the sky darkened, we watched the flames settle.
Eventually, I found the Pleiades,
those seven sisters that I locate each night as my beacon.
I was once again reminded of my lack of relationship with linear time.
It's been 16 years since I leaped over a fire at Beltane, my tribe of sisters following suit,
each of us flying over the glowing wood,
calling out the actions we would leave behind in order to move forward.
We leap more metaphorically now, but the intent is the same.
|Great Horned Owl drawing by Beth Surdut|
For sale www.bethsurdut.com