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.