I.
Might we regain the Mother now?
. . . forsake our blind ambition.
Bring back the Druid, spurned so long?
. . . unmake our proud sedition.
Can we reclaim the sacred grove?
. . . where first She made us sing.
Relearn her ways of innocence?
. . . and ponder simpler things.
For surely Nature's not undone
. . . despite our mad endeavor.
The oak still grows, the deer still run
. . . the fox is still as clever.
II.
Let me regain the Mother now.
I'm done with pride and folly.
I long to see Her spread her skirts
`neath Oak and Birch and Holly.
Too long have I enjoyed my reign
now tired of my ambition.
My lofty dreams are all but spent
since first I made sedition.
III.
Bring forth the Mother spurned so long
for time is coming full.
The Wheel has turned now overlong
and slows its forward pull.
