Once, they worshiped at our altars,
Aware our anger might erupt in torrential winds and rains.
It did not take much to garner our favor,
An evening prayer, a sacrifice, a respectful offering
Of sweet, honeyed wine.
Our pleasure would ripen like the blossoming fields,
And the days would give birth
To sunshine and storm clouds,
The balance that sustains.
Now they worship at altars of greed and corruption,
Murder our forests, pollute our waters with slime.
Unloved, unfeared, we wait at the borders,
For mortals to remember the reckoning of time.
Unseen, we remain an unbreakable coven,
Above and below the sick surface of earth.
Our hot tempers blistering,
Our salty tears melting,
Our furious fevers rising,
Our parched throats thirsting,
For the cool, quenching, covenant
Of sweet, honeyed wine.
Kelly Jarvis teaches classes in literature, writing, and fairy tale at Central Connecticut State University, The University of Connecticut, and Tunxis Community College. She lives, happily ever after, with her husband and three sons in a house filled with fairy tale books. She is also Enchanted Conversation’s special project’s writer.
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