“If we but paid attention
To our senses surround…
It would surely be known
The future is non-other
Than our past re-sown.”
– Count Jack…
Whiter than the swan on a lake
Whiter than the gull of the stream
Whiter than snow on the high-peak.
Like a wave of the sea from ebb to flood
Slender as the tall-birch, blowing…
Of a shape-sweet as full bodied clover, bobbing…
Of a colour-fair as summer’s bright morn, glowing…
Your presence, the dawning glory of the land.
Lovely the sun’s smile, rising…
Lovely the moon’s sheen, climbing…
Lovely the stars gleam, shining…
More lovely, the blush of your cheek.
Mother-Wild has not only the experience
of her forebears and the accepted rules
of the clan to guide her,
she seeks to learn also from
ants, bees, spiders and badgers.
She studies the family life of the birds.
To her and her child the birds are real people,
who live close to the mysterium.
The murmuring trees breathe its presence.
The falling waters chant its praise.