Where the moss drinks silver light, Where the river bends her knee, There Your breath moves soft as mist Through willow, reed, and tree. No blade sings in Your hollow, No oath is sworn in rage, Only the hush of heron wings And roots beneath the sage. Lay down iron, lay down flame, Lay your fury in the stream, Mother of the quiet glade, Hold the edges of my scream. Eldath, Stillwater Mother, Keeper of the shaded spring, Wash the war from out my bones, Let no cruel echo cling. Green-veiled Guardian, gentle as rain, Fold my heart in your evergreen, Where the world forgets its violence And the soul remembers clean. In the grove where foxes pass And even hunters bow their head, You stitch the torn earth back together With threads of living thread. Broken men have knelt here, Bloodied hands in trembling plea, You answered not with thunder, But with quiet clarity. Drop your shield beside the stone, Let the current take your shame, Mother of unspoken vows, Call me softly by my name. Eldath, Stillwater Mother, Warden of the sacred shore, Let my anger sink like silt To rise in me no more. Green-robed Mercy, hush the blade, Still the storm behind my eyes, Where no tyrant’s boot may follow, Where no wounded spirit dies. Peace is not surrender, Peace is rooted strength. The river does not strike the stone, Yet shapes it all the same. Your power is the unmoved heart, The untouched flame of grace. Eldath, Mother of Quiet Places, Guardian of hidden streams, Let me be a living spring In a world that breaks its dreams. Green Goddess of serene embrace, Teach my hands to heal, not harm, May I stand between the thirsty And the sword with open arms.
