Thoughts on The Fae...

by Kestrel's Flight

As a child they were much more daring
or perhaps my vision was just much more clear.
Still though even in the later part of my lives summer,
I oft here their laughter, sweet and true in the wake of clumsy foot steps.
Sweet breath on my neck and torents of fallen leaves upon my head.
Tis my gardens some protect
Yet others find the cultivated land abhorent...
Tis my son they whisper tales to now, and blessed am I to hear him repeat them...
Still, I beg them to watch over my bread in the rising, a sincere promise of the first piece warm seems to help
Still they watch over my wine aging...
And in the winters cold, lest I forget them when the first bottle is opened, there is always one cork blown.
On the summers wind they remind me of the Mother, and help me to hold the Father true in my heart...
The very life in them, the natures of the gods in flesh...
Strong, wise, playful, and sometimes capricious even cruel...
To be respected are the fae...
Believed in and adored in the way that one does children or the very old...
But with caution
For they are in my mind...
The lives created by the first thoughts of the Gods...
So, much older than we and governed by a way of being alien to our own.