Poetry: To the Moirai

Every time the new decan comes around these days, I’m trying to write a new poem to the gods. The members of my Patreon at the $5 tier get access to the materials I wrote last year for a Decans Walk, a year-long course in astrology and magic. I’m in the process of turning it into a PDF that’s a bit more organized and I’ll eventually sell through Etsy… but even in un-edited state it’s around 460 pages.

One of the things in it, is a guide to learning to write sonnets, and make letters in a late 17th century style with a seal and a security thread. I’m rather fond of sonnets; I’ve written over three thousand of them, and I’m on my way to something rather higher than that. But I find that I’m also fond of this way of sealing the sonnet in a packet that makes the eventual reader feel like they’re discovering a secret. This packet contains far more than the poem below, but it gives you a sense of what’s possible in this work.

To Clotho, spinning the thread from the start;
Lachesis too, with her eye on the weft;
and Atropos whose shears cut off the heart
beat and make the living bereft:
Receive these letters and accept our praise,
for you know the end at the beginning —
You choose the colors from the planets' rays
and then weave Men, both holy and sinning,
into the warp of the world's endless tale.
The Work goes ever on, though each life ends,
some in old age, and some when whole and hale,
each thread laying where the Weaver intends.
By spindle and shuttle and well-honed shears,
show us some kindness in the cloth of years.

— ABW, 2 Sept 2022, Goshen, MA

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