Beltane Morning Burning
By Tara Moss, Berndt Sellheim
Published 2 August 2023
Put it down to a May squall.
The new air of new life, what is earned with years
of winter. These days
you place your faith in acts
and matches, Arcadia
might be both sides of the grass
but only if you claw your way
and bring the right fuel—
gather all those histories in paper
to cast upon the flames.
For years they have clung
to basement dust, blighting the air
with their tendrils of trauma:
the stalkers, the abusers, the ones
who earned their own files.
Today, in the back garden,
glinting in a sea of dandelions,
you feed red the flames
with the pages of your past,
watching as they curl to ash.
A Beltane morning burning.
Send it off to the Four Great Winds.
Transmuted by the Spirit of Fire.
To cleanse the present
of the past
so there will be
only we two
and the sun above the cove
and all the colour and all the light
and each day a new day
like this one
now.
So let it burn.