North, South, East, West
My medicine-wheel drum beats to the rythmn of the flame.
She spins like the foam in the brook,
She whispers and shivers with the breeze in the trees,
She plants her roots in red earth, where she was born.
Arbor she becomes, sprouting leaves from her bones and veins on her skin.
Tree Goddess who follows me, so I can rest in her shade.
Her heart pulse is yet to kindle but
Born she is and live she will.
North, South, East, West
My medicine-Wheel drum yearns to dance
With her 12 sisters, hearing the elemental music
Of our grandmothers, the wild women.
With her quickening and crowning, I grow more leaves.
North, South, East, West
My medicine-wheel drum remembers the Welsh mountains
She bounded across in another life.
Skin, sinew, tendon, flesh and bone;
First death, then, through loving creative hands, a rebirth in our sister-circle.
North, South, East, West
My medicine-wheel drum beats to the rhythm of the flame.
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