The Song Of Gaia

Sing to me of trees
Venerable and cracked with moonlight,
Sing to me of gliding streams
And the reflections
In the eyes of owls.
Sing to me the poem
Of the shadow hunters,
The hind in the thicket,
And the final sacrifice;
Or the kingfisher
Sliding passed my eye
Like a beam of ancient starlight.

Sing to me of restless seeds
Rocking in their shells,
Of sighing willows
And sleepy voles,
And water weed
Spread like dancing shadow.
Sing me the flight of the hawk on high
And the racing wind
And talons reaching for the timid mouse.

Sing to me of blessed smoke
And sunlight through the oak leaf,
Of dragonflies like rainbow arrows
Or soft rain on the lips of dawn.
Sing to me of sacred stones
And the dance of life
Of spring and the green bough
Of my lord and rebirth:
Then sing to me of sanctuary
And the hallowed ground.