Oh flaming mane, eyes alight,
your skin, your fur, both dark and bright.
Mother, sister, keeper, friend,
meet me at the summer’s end.
Our breath, our hands, they touch at last,
skin bathed in stream, breeze, and grass.
The Sun, he swells, the canopy parts,
the fire enkindled in our hearts.
A rhythm builds, we growl, we pant,
bone and memory begin to chant.
We are blood, we are skull, we are water and flame,
the rivers burst, we cry our names.
Clawing, biting, spitting, mauling,
we cast our life upon the earth.
Dancing, spinning, twirling, wailing,
the leaves bathed crimson in our mirth.
The song grows ever louder still,
gore and spittle gush and spill,
we are snout, we are fang, we are fur, we are paw,
where once was finger now is claw.
The bones rise up and join in hand,
we sing with beast and breath of land.
As She shines I drink Her light,
and every bone spins through the night.
And so we dance ever on,
aching, screaming, clawing toward the dawn.
The morning will rise and scatter the night,
but Artio and I will have the next song.