Beneath the Surface

Hail Nerthus, deep-minded goddess, older than old,
fair as any flower, as flowing fields of grain,
as evergreen forests carpeted with needles.
Nerthus, in groves were you honored in times long past;
your travels among your people, your priests, your wain,
are all we know of you, all the knowledge given us
by a changing world and a changing time. Nerthus,
we see you in the rich black soil we turn over
each spring; we know your might in the sprouting of seeds,
the mating of beasts, the feeding of life on life,
in the bearing of children, the nurture of youth,
in our own thoughtless grasping for survival.
Nerthus, mother, trusted one, unknowable one,
we thank you for bread and for breath. Hail Nerthus!