Months of sun, hot and hazy
melt slowly away
to days bright and cool;
nights of the harvest moon.
Mother Nature, she knows well the change
as leaves turn from green to gold.
The Magic Season has come again.
The hoot of an owl, howl of a wolf,
carried on the air,
the crunch of crisp leaves
Like steps of passing spirits
enthralling the very soul.
The veil between the worlds
thin as a cauldron’s gurgle.
It is the moon,
shining full and ghostly pale.
The stars,
like a blanket of spangles on a velvet sky.
The rustle of nocturnal creatures,
the owl, bat, and wolf.
It is the night,
It is Magick.
-Gary Farlow (a CLF Member incarcerated in SC)
Where do you find magic in the cycles of nature?