I wrote this a very long time ago - about a Druid I once loved both in another life and time and again in this one.  Today, on this day that his people were forced from that which was theirs, it seems appropriate to post it here - in the name of 'our' Oak.  Blessed Druid's Day to you Dear One.

MIST

Wet tendrils brush cheeks
Whispers like smoke
Thread down through valleys
Lie blanket-like across fields
Cloak, distort everything known.

I wait as bidden
Grey walls all around me
Womb, tomb, guard, conceal
No malice in it
No comfort either.

Tides, eddies of mist
Flood the land
I can hear water drip
Off leaves and slap down
On sweet leaf covered earth.

I tell myself you will not come
Better thus
No disappointment
Nothing expected,
No tears to shed.

The mist parts like a curtain
You stride through
With no hesitation take my hands
Chilled and damp as my heart
No chance meeting this.

Dangerous that you did
Even the mists cannot hide
Your searching look
Diamonds droplets stud your leather and plaid
Come you dressed for war or love?

We know each other far too well
To waste stolen secret moments.
Mouths cling like the mist
Beads of water glitter
Like desire in our eyes.

Waste no words
Bodies, fingers speak
Hearts commune
In a language
Old as time.

Hot sweat drips
Mingles, merges
Our breath rises like prayers
Becomes swallowed
Cries drowned in the mist.

Later you would speak
I lay fingers
Against those proud lips
Smile into those eyes
Wait for that answering grin.

It doesn't come.
And I see the words in your eyes
"Fare thee well mo' chara."
So, we've joined
Only to part once more.

I don't beg you to stay
One last kiss, heart on my lips
I leave you standing
On our consecrated ground
Wreathed in mist.

Years pass
Mist still comes to my door
When it is my time
May I slide into it
And find you - grinning.