Ivy and Oak climb,
Through dense tree’s and fading leafs,
To a place where old and new intertwine.
Unfettered and alone,
Where nature comes to pray.
An opening past woodland ferns and past leafs
Where your deer kin keep watch,
Shadows in the woods, enigmas of your mind,
Who guard your sacred lair.
And overhead, Merlin sores, with a watchful eye,
An aerial view of this ageless place,
A master of the sky.
We hear his lament as the seasons blend,
Observing this cycle which shall never end.
For in this place I feel you here.
Something so old, so far, so near.
The Oak and Beech dryads stretch,
Swaying in the wind,
And your Vipers near the pool,
Deadly watchers whose bite would not rescind.
For all who come to this sacred place,
That you reside here without a trace.
A place that’s shared with me,
Imbolg chills and Beltane fires,
Lithas flowers and Samhains pyres.
All but stills in time.
But we yearn to return to this natural keep,
Where Cernunnos and his ageing bride forever sleep.
Ancient Grove © Ash 2005