Steam rising from the standing stones nMidsummer rains came and went. nChildren's bare feet on the rain soaked grass nSpeaks Mother Earth- eloquent nnThe ploughman's chant is left behind nMay woven ribbons bleach in the sun nThe rime of winter lies well away nRequiem for the barley- not yet begun nnNow is the cusp of robin and wren nNow is the crux of women and men nNow descant memories echo birth of the word nnThe Blood of Summer's holding vernal rains nThe binding river flows through eternal veins nThe bubbling cauldron still is tended and stirred nnThe blood of summer nThe blood of summer nThe blood of summer flows in us still. nnSteam rising from the paving stones nMidsummer rains late to appear nChildren squeal in the sprinkler's spiral nThe tapestry sings the loom of years nnA crimson thread runs through the breath nthrough me form my father to my son nIt pulls through shadow forward and back nThrough every leaf, every pulse, everyone nnRetrace your steps to the well worn flame nreclaim the gift of the thrice born name nReturn to the rising tree and the shadow stair nnBehold the greenwood heart and mind nBegin the dance of Hart and Hind nBecome the Brindled bull and the Milk white Mare nnThe blood of summer nThe blood of summer nThe blood of summer flows in us still. n