When they thought us wicked, we were really wise

In the Burning Times of world despise,

They named us as tricksters, blamed things dark and worse,

Called cunning and wile a demon’s curse.

Heaven and the Underworld, summoned at will,

Crept on cat-paws to nurture or thrill,

Reading vain futures – balancing humors –

Attending births and healing tumors.

Folklore has always survived the Dark Ages . . .

They’ll never destroy the timeless Sages.