Offering

The last notes had sung out minutes ago,
She thought if she listened hard enough, she could still hear them,
Echoing across the fields,
Up the bank,
Perhaps creeping down chimneys, and through open windows,
Of the houses just beyond.

Would it work, would it summon the magic?

She had been told to imagine the circle around her,
Even if she sat in a sacred space,
With needles of stone demarking an area.
See the circle, hold the circle,
You will be protected.

Protected from what she was unclear about,
Because as sure as eggs were eggs,
Any man would be able to seize them through that imaginary sphere.

It’s not the men you need to worry about,
Her sister had whispered.

She itched to play the music again,
Now that was her safe space,
The place she became lost within,
But lost in a good way.

Will the fairies come?
Her sister asked,
Will they take us away?

Offering

Fairies or gods, who knew what disguise they would take,
And what they would ask in return.

Was her music enough,
Or just a pleasant starter,
A prelude to the main sacrifice.
Life, death, sight, sound, future, past.
What should they offer, what would be taken?

For now, as the last memory of notes faded away,
They sat in silence, eyes closed.
Until her sister fidgeted and pulled at her shawl.

Look, look up!
She whispered,
Iris has come.