Have you ever stood in the April wood
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and called the new year in?
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While the phantoms of three thousand years fly
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as the dead leaves spin?
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There's a snap in the grass behind your feet
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and a tap upon your shoulder.
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And the thin wind crawls along your neck ---
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it's just the old gods getting older.
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And the kestral drops like a fall of shot and
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the red cloud hanging high ---
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come --- a Beltane.
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Have you ever loved a lover of the old elastic truth?
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And doted on the daughter in the ministry of youth?
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Thrust your head between the breasts of the fertile innocent.
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And taken up the cause of love, for the sake of argument.
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Or while the kisses drop like a fall of shot
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from soft lips in the rain ---
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come --- a Beltane.
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Happy old new year to you and yours.
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The sun's up for one more day, to be sure.
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Play it out gladly, for your card's marked again.
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Have you walked around your parks and towns so knife-edged orderly?
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While the fires are burned on the hills upturned
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in far-off wild country.
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And felt the chill on your window sill
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as the green man comes around.
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With his walking cane of sweet hazel --- brings it crashing down.
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Sends your knuckles white as the thin stick bites.
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Well, it's just your groaning pains.
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Come --- a Beltane.
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Beltane
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| Jethro Tull |
