Hill Prayer Poem by Nick John Whittle

Cuda, mother goddess, in everything we know;
Hallowed is your simplicity, cult of measure and painted justice.
You are the damp currant soil between toes, stars of birthstone blue dust,
The razed warrior sun, mercury flooding moon,
Summers of abundant burden and winters charged by barren chill;
You are the light, the dark, the fragile, the strong,
The ragged water's edge and royal mountains' reign,
Crowned trees, curving sky, the wheel of dragonflies in flight;
You are the sweet smile of love's rite and all the tears to stain,
The untamed majesty of passion and dying embers of the soul.
Cherished be your spirit and healing grace about which all our lives do fold.
Amen.