On a  large tumulus, an impressive dolmen

A body is set on, unmoving, naked

I can see the stars and from moon, the crescent

Men and women approaching, all clothed in white

At each quarter, they surround the kid

Whispering together sacred words

Pointing every phrase by an incense sway

Made of mistletoe and sage, and melted herbs

I’m there, and listen  to the ritual, observing

Thaumaturge, runic invocation

My soul is so troubled, thrown out of time

I enter, pressed by a blow, in the magic circle

My feverish fingers put a blue clay

On forehead and belly, displaying ointment

Then recovering by plants, freshly cut leaves

So Druids gather and raise the child

Under the lying stone, he’ll stay longtime

Watched and cared by curer magicians

Then life will come back, in a stronger fire

I see the whole being vibrating in thousand points

All recede from me in a mist of ashes

I know, deep inside me, I must  come again

Times and  times again…so  many things to learn

Land of Avalon can’t die in me…never

Memories of Avalon**Initiation – ENY