by Doreen Hopwood

Walking by the burn,
I saw the stone.
The rushing, tumbling
water had forced it to turn
on its side.

Sandstone.
Flesh and bone
of Mother Earth
formed millions
of years ago.

I returned
to the water scoured bank,
and saw the peaty,
turbulent torrent had sank
around the rosy rock.

It lay there,
warmly glowing
as the bright, sharp
sunlight glittered
on the chilly churning
water.

The stone was curved,
a blood red crescent moon.
Goddess in the living waters,
their ebb and flow held
in Her hands since
the beginning of time.

A chocolate feathered
dipper bobbed around the stone,
her snowy breast gleaming
as she dived beneath
the bubbling foam.

I gazed at the bird
on that watery altar,
thanking our Mother for treasures
like these, for laughter and life
and all nature's pleasures.

Blessed be.

©Doreen Hopwood