The Warrior

We have, for so long,
asked our forebears of the past,
for their wisdom;
we must look now to the future,
this time may not last.
We, can sing praises,
to things that have been,
in our memory;
we must look now at their wisdom,
for things yet unseen.
Such is the chance,
of Witch in our age;
or in othertime.
Close a door on the past,
turn a new page,
make a new Book of Shadows,
a new truth of love;
not hidden in darkness,
but to fly like the dove.
Or the eagle.
I know not, which bird it should be,
I know only my own truth,
and my own truth is free.
To die where I stand,
seems but empty and hollow;
I would, rather live,
to give love tomorrow.