Place of the Stones
( Litha 2010 )

No place, or earthy garden, no lith or mound or wand;
but woven through, with silver true,
by thought and will and hand.
The only mound, by Venus raised, where the laird of fire may pray;
to tend with care, be humbled there,
to praise the break of day.
As Gold and Green the sky would rend, His fire on mist and cloud;
must rise again, to die again,
to don Her sable shroud.
Yet tenuous man may never fear, the Wheel must ever turn;
though hidden deep, within, asleep,
the eternal fires burn.
Just as the Lord will weaken, all mortal men must fade;
but when the Mother raises them, with lips and breasts she praises them,
immortal are they made.
*
Here be the living temple.
A temple for the sun.