(Niyol, early days in Eleusis)

I came on feet not meant for stone,
A forest-heart through leaves unknown.
My name was wind, my voice was low,
The sun too bright, the rivers slow.

I walked with ache inside my chest,
A silence that would not give rest.
The trees had tongues, but none spoke mine,
And still I listened for the sign.

Ive known the cold that climbs the bone,
The kind of sadness grown alone.
But then I saw  a glance, a grin,
A hand held out, a welcome in.

The warriors bore bark and flame,
They asked for none, yet knew my name.
A brothers nod, a sisters cheer 
The family I had longed to hear.

So if I bleed, I bleed for them,
My roots, my oath, my forest-kin.
For even when my soul is worn,
I rise again 

<? family-born. <?

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Mayan, in the year 981 AF.