take me as you would an oak:
soak my limbs in lavender
and hew them with a golden sickle.
hang my eyes with mistletoe.
pull out my ribs in pieces
and cast lots on green earth
beneath you.
dream of me inside your oxen
bigger than the boughs
that spread above in darkness
masking moonlight and our stars
crossed by iron crossed by bronze
and the falling pattern of bones
torn gently from my hands.
meet me in the bog
beyond time where perceptions murky
swirl slowly touched not by wind
but by staves pushed half
heartedly by the bearded men stuck
there on solid ground.
O Druidess