The Witching Hour and the Day She Witnessed

The Witching Hour and the Day She Witnessed by Valerie Parente

I love the brightness of the day,
but when the moon comes to play,
I like hearing the owls speak,
whistling wisdom from their beaks.

I must tell you, I respect the evening,
and the very moon that I believe in,
the dark sky brings retrospect,
to the daylight earlier witnessed.

She who is nocturnal,
owns a world that is eternal,
because there’s never an end,
to what the soul can comprehend.

Well I guess that’s how it goes,
we have experience and then we grow,
encoding it all in the witching hour,
where the spirits accompany what’s ours.

– Valerie Parente (6-5-2021)

Treehouse

Treehouse by Valerie Parente

Started from the soil,
these roots, they intertwine,
like veins with a pulse,
a great time to be alive.

Then we branched out,
like antlers on a doe,
smelling the outdoors,
and now it feels like home.

This treehouse, I like to climb,
we go up to a fairytale place,
so whimsical and evergreen,
since the seasons have changed.

The sun stretches its hours,
the moon, it peaks at night,
the day brings experience,
the evening, an owl’s mind.

Half the year I am longing,
for my favorite spot,
so when the weather clears,
you’ll find me on the treetops.

Don’t tell me I’m the one,
if I’m still hibernating,
the real me doesn’t falter,
it speaks with a cadence.

I don’t resent the gray,
it shows me where I’ve been,
I can appreciate the green,
when the gray finally ends.

Well I guess that’s the truth,
where Persephone could be found,
half the year under the earth,
half the year in a treehouse.

– Valerie Parente (6-5-2021)