by Rev. Jean “Drum” Pagano
From the primordial darkness
The Goddess,
Dark-cloaked,
Dark-veiled,
Lifts the cloak,
Lifts the veil
And peers from underneath
The world,
Sheltered and warm,
Held in loving incubation,
Taut In elastic anticipation
Firm In nascent imagination
Nestled against her soul
Under her cloak,
The Earth lays waiting
Under her cloak,
There is no sky
Under her cloak,
All protection is afforded
To the world inside
From the darkness
The Earth is born:
The cloak lifts away,
Transformed into a raven
With wings across the sky
The Great Mother,
Soars overhead
With a word,
Spoken to the Sky,
With incantation,
Chanted to the Sky,
With a single glyph,
The Sun erupts into the sky
The Great Mother holds
The Sun,
Cupped in her hands,
She speaks softly
And ogham stream
Shimmering onto the Earth
“Duir”,
She speaks to the Earth,
And the first oak is born.
Rejoicing,
It lifts its branches
In song
