I wrote The Gathering during a lively time while among friends and companions I remember well we were having a hearty time divesting ourselves of worldly inhibitions. Casting caution to the wind, we flagrantly with much fervor expanded our consciousness with what to us seemed to be sweet Ambrosia. And followed hedonistic desires as we danced soulfully around the fires of our youth.

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Daylight has turned to dusk, and we've gathered here near the crossroads of both day and night. Among our campfire, shifting shadows move as one. The twilight's soft procession has begun. We've gleaned visions as we move among the shadows.

Ah, this is it! We've caught a

spirit horse running wild we are free.

Tribal smoke stokes the smoldering campfire that burns down across the lengthening years.

Gathering here near the final flickering of firelight we've heard our names whispered upon the wind.

We've transcended the mortal planes, and now for a time, we ride within realms not seen with human eyes.

But viewed midst the vision as we continue dancing among the dream.

Pounders apparitions float before us as though meant to be our guides.

We chant in time with the rhythm, which moves faster than before.

Our guide beckons us forth upon our celestial journey.

Now galloping forward upon the first rays of sunlight.

We complete the cycle, reigniting our

campfires admits the sacred circle at the crossroads of both day and night.

By Shannon Kelley

From: United States