You’ve come, O sweet child of Demeter
From the depths of the Earth
Where the sun does not shine
And joy is a currency none can earn
Save by your leave
You’ve come, now watch the Earth rejoice
Like a seedling rising in a fallow field
Full of the potential of what is yet to be
In the verdant force of nature’s power
That small sprig that will one day be an oak
You’ve come, and with you the Springtime
O lovely Persephone of the pale white skin
Greeted by spring showers and the smell of growth
Mixed with the decay of yesterday
That circular power that brings rebirth from death
You’ve come, to your mother’s delight
And with you her heart mends
And Winter ends
In an embrace of power no mortal can guess
Save perhaps a mother and daughter long apart
You’ve come, O Kore of the flowering fields
And all who know you rejoice
From the land of the dead you bring life
From hopelessness hope
Blessed Lady of the Springtime
Art: Death the Bride by Thomas Cooper Gotch
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