As sojourners, we languish in the underworld
of a eurogenic Dark Age
waiting for the arrival of new Life – a new beginning.
Waiting, we walk the winter garden
where last-year’s leaves
quietly compost beneath blankets of snow
renewing soil for Oak and her daughters
whose roots are like tentacles clinging to
this ancient granite mountain that is their homeland.
Waiting, we greet fire-scarred poplars standing upright
this final winter of their leafed lives
tenderly nursing spruce seedlings at their roots
in the slow spiral of forest regeneration.
Waiting, we walk the labyrinth
Where brown peat composts ancient forests that stood
aeons ago before the last glacier melted and
before Hades stole the Mother Right.
How long must we wait for the Mother’s resurgence?
Persephone, Chthonic Queen of Compost, Regeneratrix.