The stones

The stones

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The stones are always circling Her
Tumbled under ocean waves.
They’ve gazed upon Her star white face
And danced the night moon tides away.

The stones are echoing Her name
In deep rock veins they chant and tell
Of rushing streams and hollow hills,
The blessed darkness of Her womb.

The stones all listen to Her song
Hapr strings touched by wind and rain
From Heaven’s arc to Earth’s deep core
In life’s great web each note a strand.

The stones are borne up from the Earth
Ancient sacral grown of jewels
And as they wake our vision sparks
A prismal glimpse of She who comes

– Amonim

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