Seasons Of The Mother, Maiden And Crone Poem by grace mariner

The winter witch wears her crystal cape of grey and black.
She blends into the trees long fingers and the icy landscape.
She is the crone, the wisest of us all.
She carries the knowledge of many lives lived.
Seek her for she will clear your mind and the answers you seek will fall from her and bring you peace.
The witch of spring is the maiden dancing in her watercolor gown.
Picking flowers to see if he loves her or loves her not.
She is a flight of fancy, taking to the air like a butterfly.
Her Mother is awakening and calling for the seed.
Seek her for she will bring out your child's eyes to see the world renewed in yellows, greens, reds, pinks and purples.
The summer witch, round and full like the Mother, is fertile and fruitful.
She is lush and seductive in her swirling cape of green, her seeds
sustaining and ever growing.
She carries the future in her round belly and the instinct of all the Mothers before her.
Seek her for she will fill your heart with lullabies of another lifetime and bring you abundance.
Autumns witch is enrobed in rich hues of amber, gold, russet and purple.
The leaves scatter as she dances and whirls, calling forth the harvest from the Mothers belly.
The last of her fertile offering, her hair graying like the thick gray clouds of October as she celebrates the end of the harvest.
Seek her as she will sustain you as Mother sleeps and you await the crones arrival.