My Own Holy Well
If you follow the path,
the one next to the creek
that runs along the edge of town,
and if you circle the great oak three times,
you might just find a fine oak bridge
that connects this world to the next.
If you cross that bridge
and enter that in between place
you might find yourself in a young grove,
surrounded by the most beautiful birds
and under the watchful eyes of the guardian,
the Great Green God of the land.
And there, where this world hangs on either side,
is an oak, heavy with both acorn and flower,
and at its base is a hollow
where the sacred waters well
leave an offering, a flower or a strip of cloth.
I thank the goddess for her prescence,
I thank the god for his guidance,
I thank the black bird for leading me to her,
and leaving me with her name,
that is Brighid, goddess forever.