The Sorcerer's Sleep

When owl hoots

and great wolf howls

I don my boots

begin to prowl

the darkest wood

I never knew

pull up my hood

of greenish hue

face to the sky

of blackest night

I sing and sigh

while taking flight

into the tree

up from the ground

my soul sets free

the ancient sound

of wind and mist

and ice and fire

while the sorcerer kissed

the blazing pyre

I sit before him

in the name of love

with my burning skin

his face above

reaching for the heat

exploding from my eyes

tantalizing feat

amidst the cries

of wolf and owl

and forest deep

as I end my prowl

in his cave of sleep.