She is the goddess of the ripened grain,
Hers is the old wisdom that guides me home,
And I feel her grace wherever I roam.
Each time I call upon her name again,
I feel her touch warm me in icy rain,
She is my lady of the darkest moon
Who guides my voice to sing a poet’s tune
She is my inner strength when I am fain.
O Dark Mother, she has helped me to see,
The living wonder of life on this Earth
She has filled my heart with a joyful mirth
In her sanctuary I’m forever free
And protected within her cauldron flame,
All this love is mine as I called her name
©JG Farmer 2011
Form: Wyatt’s Sonnet