The Pull (poem)

The Pull


Under the light of a full moon,
We gather around the maple tree.
Paying homage to mother earth,
We say our words in groups of three.

The flames dance softly in the night,
Our faces illuminated by the light.
As we swing and sway to the song,
Of the ancients, times long gone.

We are told, through given signs,
That the gathering is upon us now.
Many are being pulled back home,
A road they must try and follow.

For the waiting is very soon to end,
The new cycle is scheduled to begin.
For those of you who've felt the pull,
Follow you're path, it must be fulfilled.

Thanks,
blend57