Old gods and goddesses who have lived so long

Through time and never found eternity,

Fettered by wasting wood and hollowing hill,

You should have fled our ever-dying song,

The mound, the well, and the green trysting tree.

They have forgotten, yet you linger still.

Goddess of caverned breast and channeled brow,

And cheeks slow hollowed by millennial tears,

Forests of autumns fading in your eyes,

Eternity marvels at your counted years

And kingdoms lost in time, and wonders how

There could be thoughts so bountiful and wise

As yours beneath the ever-breaking bough,

And vast compassion curving like the skies.