Beneath the green-veiled boughs where old roots remember forgotten oaths,
She risesโflame-haired daughter of starlit hollows, eyes carved from winter sky.
Her gown woven from the breath of oaks, knotwork spells older than iron,
A leaf of bronze hangs above her heart, beating the slow rune of awakening.
Listen. The forest speaks her name in wind and shadow. ๐๐โจ
#CelticMysticism #RedheadMagic