Lady Of the Lake
A Tribute to Diana

Lady, amidst the bramble and the thorn your blushing rose doth grow,
the raven carries thy name into the hills, the waves whisper it to and fro.

In the midst of the sacred lake, a tiny isle doth gleam,
here, Lady, thou hast come to rest within the wooded green.
Thy gown the dew and morning mist, thy crown the milky way,
ye art a Princess of the Grail, a Golden One, a Fey.

Lady of the Lake, now kept from wandering time,
ye sing to us in reverie, the psalms of mortal rhyme,
where every verse takes us deeper still into the heart of One,
and all comes ‘round the spiraling tor, weaving love into the Sun.

Thy smiling face, thy welcome grace is a mantle from the cold,
thy soul of fire, thy heart’s desire, the children in thy arms enfold.

They shall come to thee in thy flowery bier within the sacred lake,
where ye will fill their chaliced cups with memories they shall not forsake.

Though all about, the weft and weave of lives continue on,
your magic heart, a harp of love will sound the coming morn.

~ Maia Christianne