Many winters winds have whipped me
Unseen runes of those who drew me
Rested in the bark of copper
Left behind by a long lost writer
Concealed in a plume of birches
Waiting for the ones who find me
Ancient magic communication
Bound by the arrows of god 
Wisdom from the past within me
I can be your guide or master
Am I spell or am I promise?
Will you heed my words?

Many summers suns have blessed me
Unread truths of those who drew me
Scrawled into the riven driftwood
Locked inside a secret language
Exhumed into an older future
Waiting in the earth above me
Occult forms of conversation
Sealed by the sign of god
Hidden in a woodland coastline
I can be your spell or sermon 
Am I oath or am I omen?
Will you know my name?