The Gathering
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Axe to the tree with merry humming
Once again, heralding Winter's breath
At dusk we light a great hearth
Gather 'round for peace and plenty
Remembering those who dwelled
Folk of old and the gatherings they shared
With hope for the sun to rise high
Warm enough to bloom new life
Young grow old and breed
Sow to reap for another gathering
Through feast and fire, hand in hand
Our way is of the land