Poems by Nelferch Merchoed
Prelude
In the twilight of the evening:
Thunder is murmuring: a song of mystery and enchantment.
Lightning is flashing: Arrows of white light.
Nature is waiting for blessed moisture.
I am a string of a harp waiting for the hand of the bard.
I am a bow-string waiting for the hand of the hunter.
I am waiting for the blessing of the beloved.
I shiver with anticipation,
Ready to release a song.
Ready to reach for the goal.
Ready to welcome blessed Awen.
I am alive.
Come!