cauldron call

while wand’ring the forest
branches unfolded
revealing the path
they couldn’t resist

the door to the coven
swung open before them
beckoning inward
wind whispered a word

vines hung like flosses
in trees with their mosses
the crew with no bosses
reck’ned their losses

the doorway was virtual
a hole in the bramble
the band of true ramble
stepped into the circle

it was not a building
but a cobblestone floor
strewn with pieces of kindling
aroma of petrichor

within the forest a clearing
blue sky the only ceiling
their senses full and reeling
yet sense of calm their feeling

a shiny cauldron brewing
toward the center calling
boiling bubbles spoke
within list’ners awoke

yearning so compelling
gentle bubbles yelling
brewed within their hearts
sync’d with cauldron’s farts

like a candle for a moth
each attendee sampled broth
with mug and scoop and bowl
pleased the lips, seasoned the soul

the cauldron sank into the earth
brought this coven crowd much mirth
then from the soil grew a tree
tall as toiling people three

from its young-old branches fell
disc-shaped seed pods for each palm
picked as each attendee knelt
green medallions brought such calm

each did heed the call
and turned away from the tree
within the forest wall
opened gateways each could see

separately they took their cookies
the seed pods they had earned
these broth-filled seasoned bookies
walked while in their hearts burned

through the forest they departed
while deep inside their fires started
spread to their lands all around
these sacred seeds they had found

no one spoke of what they saw
nor bubbled voices they had heard
still they spread the cauldron’s call
shared its seeds with not a word

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
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