For Hazel

Come ye here again Greenleaf.
Leaf of green.
Nod ye here pale flower,
in parting.
A Mother's loss;
no Athame,
may turn the dark,
or steel the pain.
No burning Wand
may seal it.
The Cup,
turned bitter in Her hand,
no Pentagram,
may heal it.
Yet come Ye Greenleaf,
come again.
In waving corn,
or fruited tree.
In sun warmed stone,
or moonlit rain,
and Starfire,
come Ye,
Greenleaf.