First Morning in May
by Susan Harris

Softly the mist rolls down from the mountain,
Songs on the air greet the start of the day.
Kissed is the hawthorn, now blushing with blossom,
By the lips of the Sun, on the first dawn of May.

Thin is the veil twixt the Worlds on this morning,
Ancestors past hail the birth of May Day.
The Sun’s golden glance, life giving and warming
Chases the last twinkling starlight away.

Scented, the billows that blow through the valley
Heady, the smoke that is borne on the breeze.
Maidens in dresses worn green for the Goddess,
Stroll through the blue silent bells ‘neath the trees.

The jingle of dancers rings out to the morning,
Ever decreasing, the circle they prance.
Brightly the ribbons weave down to the meadow
Binding the Sun to the Earth in their dance.

Silently new life emerges from darkness
Swollen with promise, new buds grace the trees.
Our Lady smiles at the beauty around her
And May softly sighs on the crest of a breeze.

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First Morning in May © Susan Harris 2005