Ancasta of the rushing river, Ancasta
of the fair white feet, laughing you leap from stone
to slippery stone, each step a dance of grace and ease.
Carefree one, unwavering one, we hear your voice
in the music of the rapids, we find your gifts
in the taste of good sweet water on our tongues,
in the silvery glint of salmon and trout
among the rocks and mosses. Your might was great
in days long past, your kindness and your bounty;
your name was carved with grateful hands by one who knew
your blessing, who prayed to you with love and faith.
Ancasta, goddess, ancient one, I honor you now.