Of dark and light
a season told,
of sun and rose
of days of old.
Five the petals
of the spiral flower,
one falls to earth
in the autumn hour.
A symbol
of an ancient path,
a ritual
of exchanging masks.
A core of muses
one to three
and the dueling twins,
of duality.
And the circle grows
each time around,
and all within
are spiral bound.

At dawn and twilight
a balance wakes,
golden barley
in moonlight shakes.
Five great spokes
of an ancient wheel,
who break the bonds
of hidden seals.
Symbols,
of beginning and end,
spiraling,
to change and mend.
From the core beginning
long ago,
in scarlet white and indigo.
And the circle grows
each time around,
and all within
are spiral bound.

Of sun and rose
a lovetale told,
summer green
must face the cold.
Five black seeds
of the apples core,
return to fertile earth
once more.
Symbols,
of an age to come,
a sign of birth,
when a season’s done.
A sprig which spirals
from a grain,
rising up,
to taste the flame.
And the circle grows
each time around,
for all within
are spiral bound.
Casting prayers
on fate or chance,
all within,
the spiral dance.