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I call to Aueha of the clear waters,
a shiver under the sun, a ripple over stone;
yours is the land of the many villages,
each small center the soul of passing life and time,
each an heir to your blessing, a round of your song,
a detail of your design. Yours are the inland seas,
the shadowy woods and the beasts that roam within;
yours are the ancient names, the bones within the ground.
Aueha, you hold the old in hand–of memories
fond and fierce you know much, and you keep ever close
what has been–yet you see worth as well in the new.
O goddess steadfast and supple, I honor you.
Fieldstones 