The women at the well

Summer garden

guarded by floral gates

and two towering yew trees,

ancient and gnarled.

Three pools of water descend in

concentric circles from the well.

Three women sit at the well head –

the first is silent, contemplating,

her old eyes closed,

her face peaceful, relaxed and listening

to the sounds in the trees around her.

The second makes a chalice with her hands

ancient symbol of the womb

divine feminine,

her eyes too are closed,

the wind stirs her brown hair

it moves slowly

strand by strand

across her shoulders.

The third is a girl

staring with wondering eyes

at the world.

She reaches with tentative fingers to touch

rough tree bark and the soft, damp fabric

of flower petals.

The itinerant chatter of birds on the wing

speak to her in the language of nature

with which children are fluent.

Three women sit at the well head

and from them, the sacred waters flow.


I was inspired to write this poem by a visit to Chalice Well Gardens in Glastonbury – a beautiful and very peaceful place.


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