I watched a painter at her work
dipping and swaying before her canvas
brushes and pallette in her hands were
transformed into magic wands and pentacle.
She was no mere painter but a Sorceress!
Dancing in her sacred circle, performing an arcane ritual,
conjuring, calling forth spirits from unseen realms of mystery
glimpsed in her shamanic vision.
Promethean Light flowed beneath outstretched arms,
her face a masque of concentration, she
rent the veil between the worlds.
At last, the object of her longing peered forth from hallowed, shiny skin
in answer to her energetic summons.