Enchantress

Forever, I’m born in the ancient earth Flowing to the cold seas slow ebb and tide To be but never leave each moment's birth Or pass to what's on each one's other side
 For here am I, soulless and immortal Born but not risen high on Foxes Meer As the holy Enchantress, natural Worshipped and prayed to by those who draw near
 But I must live and walk on earth with men And rise from the vast singleness of all To be unfrozen by having the ends Through which every revealed next moment falls
 To live through these short resurrected lives Where my divine spirit dwells as mortal But then flows beyond death to once more rise And live again and be born eternal
 ----------------------------------------- So, I planted the Stalldown Barrow stones To mark the path of my own sacred dreams When I wrote them through lives of flesh and bone And left them buried by the river stream
 And I rode with lost Childs to where he lays Inside the horse, he killed on winter land Where they found him frozen and dug his grave On the open moorland where his tomb stands
 The Copper men used my spirit’s great weight To mine for silver tin from the Ermes Pound That hardened each one's golden heart and fate When they forged the bronze destiny, they found 
 Then my clear waters ran red with what’s lost When the darkness from which tins treasure came Where streamed down my course and past Piles Oak Copse For ten centuries but nothing remains Before then, I walked high on Harford Hill As a Druid, to build there the stone ring And cast that net and then divine the will Of nature and what’s written deep within 
 But these mortal souls lived too short a span To fathom my spirit that walks with fate On their journey through this brief shadow land When my thoughts are a million years to make
 Just like the salmon returning to spawn Now swim beneath Ermingtons twisted spire From the long whale road, ice and Greenlands dawn These pilgrims cannot see the Northern fire
 When these souls leave, there is nothing that’s left As their footsteps fade in Wonwell’s wet sands Washed by the tides that rise where their sun sets Far beyond my estuary and land ------------------------------------------------ Before then, I walked high on Harford Hill As a Druid, to build there the stone ring And cast that net and then divine the will Of nature and what’s written deep within
 But these mortal souls lived too short a span To fathom my spirit that walks with fate On their journey through this brief shadow land When my thoughts are a million years to make
 Just like the salmon returning to spawn Now swim beneath Ermingtons twisted spire From the long whale road, ice and Greenlands dawn These pilgrims cannot see the Northern fire
 When these souls leave, there is nothing that’s left As their footsteps fade in Wonwell’s wet sands Washed by the tides that rise where their sun sets Far beyond my estuary and land ----------------------------------------------