Druids

Deep in the Passages in the rock
An unwritten history, lost in the dark.
Timeless, wordless, written in each vanished block
And every miner’s mark.
Reason whitewashed like the lime,
That made the mortar that built our world.
But much further back in time,
Lie the secrets forever curled
Into the oldest places of the mine.
No miner’s logic for these smooth walls,
The spiral entrance, a sun sign,
For entrance to the sunless halls,
Curving, tapering passages,
Echoing the deep sounds
Of blood spilt pagan messages,
Deep below the ground,
Still resounding in our English souls
Whispering in black and white,
As blood dripped into the bowls,
From altars of the night.