I Run with an Old Priestess (poem)

I run with an old Priestess, Dana

Through an awning of magnolia and fern

A rainbow of our kind

Mirrors a path beyond the hillside

Where the Faery Folk entwine

She says she’s a Keeper of Ancient Rites

and bows to meet my ear

There is no magic without your heart,

So bless it always, my dear

As wind hisses through the Oaks

We find our garden grown Nature is our altar, roses of our will

We are temples of the Goddess,

Where the chalice always fills

Become the bud, become the bee Drink deep the nectar of the Sidhe

What worlds there are, what worlds shall be

Dana of the Silver Moon, Star of the Sea

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