Hidden in the hills,
a spring spills its secrets –
milk and honey from the womb of the earth.
Seeking its course through forest and vale,
water calls the banks of the river into being –
within you plays the song of the stream.
You are the banks of the river
and its bed
that give the water a place to go.
Unbraid your hair now, and
let the oncoming tide dissolve
your holding back.
Where the moon marries salt to sweet,
may your gathering waters
flow out to the sea.