Cerridwen
By Melissa Pinol
Deep in the tangled
Thicket of your heart
There is a dark place
Where all stories start.
Among the branches
Carved with ancient runes
Lies a great sow as
White as the moon.
Do not mock her awkward
Form if you would thrive:
The sow of the black
Grove eats the fool alive.
If you tread in terror
You may live to see
The cauldron of revealing
Where she keeps Mysteries.
Rooting, rooting in
The pit of your soul
Uncovering secrets
Hidden in the mold.
Sow in the thicket
Secret in the light
The heart laid bare by
Teeth of gleaming white.
© 2000 Melissa Pinol. All Rights Reserved.
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