The Sacred Grove

The Sacred Grove

Passing through a phalanx of guardians,

six rednecks in camp chairs drinking beer,

I come upon a tiny glen.

The Goddess lives here!

Among the pines, in their rich soft carpet of silence,

spirit envelopes me.

I sit, and slowly, the wild world

reappears:  the titmouse, the bees.

And there She is!

Gracefully,

She offers me all She has.

Her love, Her endless love.

Blueberries grow tall enough to pick with my mouth.

I'm home, in this wild Earth.

Passing through a phalanx of guardians,

six rednecks in camp chairs drinking beer,

I come upon a tiny glen.

Annelinde Metzner copyright 2008

(photo by Patty Levesque)