Недра Викки

THE STONES 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- Harp 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 gown of jewels- And as they wake our vision sparks A prismal glimpse of She who comes! -Anonymous