the queen’s arrival

from the tadpoles in the bog

to the birds in the trees

ferns, stones, trickles, and rivers

flying and crawling

bugs and lizards

dreamers and artists

crafters, herders, fishers

the old sorceror on the hill

the hill itself, and the trees upon it

all sing with harmonious joy

for your blessed arrival

to our little village

on a little stream

—

the priestess waits nervously

hands clenched

knuckles white

she had been to the monastery

where the queen was born

visited many times

earned her trust

helped her prepare

—

yet the stress

present moment

her spirit lit with her nerves

her stomach wrenched at her spine

—

she found herself snapping

at the poor monk

oathbound to educate the queen

and ernest in his efforts

she apologized

he understood