The moon is dark, it's hard to see,
Shadows swirl in mystery.
Quiet whispers from all directions,
Sibilant sounds with no protections.
Gathering closer, a dangerous gleam,
Bursting forth a flickering beam.
The fire builds, which soft bodies surround,
Setting blankets and baskets upon the ground.
Ah! Only women, and to think you were shook!
Light clarifying shadows is all that it took.
Now colorful skirts and soft glowing hair,
So silly to fear, what now seems so fair.
"Only women" you whisper so low,
Settling back and watching the show.
Lulled by the movement and soft melody,
Eyelids slide down in sleep's parody.
Carried along in the evenings soft hum,
Thinking, to lay surrounded could be quite fun!
Something changes, sends a chill down your spine,
Things no longer seem so innocent, so fine...
'What's different?' you wonder, these women so fair.
What's returned my fear, raised the nape of my hair?
Women are harmless you think, "Why fear?"
You suddenly care if they should come near.
'Look closer,' the small voice bids in your mind,
Why be frightened of something seeming so kind?
It all feels quite different, the energy's changed,
You now begin feeling it's all pre-arranged.
Their eyes seem so knowing, a little too wise,
Teeth gleam too sharply, like cats with a prize.
Soft hair braided with odd little bones,
Not just pretty feathers and shiny stones.
These women, they have nothing to fear,
Their softness hides claws to rend any too near.
Their Goddess is quite older is what you surmise,
Their weakness an illusion to the world's dull eyes.
"Hecate, Innanna, Holda and Hel,
Lilith, Morrigan, Kali and Cybel"
Different voices, each calling to her Dame
Likenesses different, in darkness the same.
Awareness of this ancient eldritch call,
Make you stumble backwards, feeling a pall.
These women could face Pan and match him feral,
And all along look like they just sang a sweet carrol!
'It's time to be going,' you suddenly decide,
This place is no longer safe to abide.
The air feels cold, making teeth chatter,
As being follow'd by the Wild Hunt's clatter.
...Swirling, dancing 'round the fire,
Whispering giggling we conspire.
Sidewards glance and knowing look,
Being a woman's all it took.
By Ana Hawthorn, 2006 (dedicated to her Dark Moon Dames)