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Have you ever stood in the April wood
And called the new year in?
While the phantoms of three thousand years
Fly as the dead leaves spin?
There's a snap in the grass behind your feet
And a tap upon your shoulder.
And the thin wind crawls along your neck
It's just the old gods getting older.
And the kestral drops like a fall of shot
And the red cloud hanging high
Come a Beltane.
Happy old new year to you and yours.
The sun's up for one more day, to be sure.
Play it out gladly, for your card's marked again.
- Ian Anderson
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