Beneath a thorny tangle of white rose bushes, the Summer Goddess sleeps. She has been sleeping since the Lord of winter cast his spell on her last autumnal equinox.

And then she wakes to the call of the May King and the May Queen, knowing that the time has come for her to wake.

She passes her body up and out, through the bed of white roses, and she steps to the soil of the earth mother. But then the shadow of the Winter Lord falls over the ground before her. And she looks up to stare into his face.

“Dark Lord of Winters, I have been freed from your slumbering spell by the call the the May King and Queen. The spell you had casted upon me has no power over me. Now more shall the winter cold affect the children of Her creation. I bid you farewell, so that you may rest for the time of my return.”

But the Winter Lord does not move and she raises a hand calling upon the spirits of the plants and sprouts of the earth, calling upon them to spring forth—up and out, from the soil.

And he says to her, “your green earth lies all in slumber, Lady” and he points to over the thinning layer of snow that covers the earth, but the Summer Goddess just says “and may the rays of the golden sun melt away the last remnants of winter!”

And the snow melts, the sun shining his happy face to her, the snow melts, revealing the greens and blooms that lie beneath.

“You have no power over me, O Lord of Winter’s Shadows! Your time has gone and passed, and now I reign here.”

And the Winter Lord of Cold and Shadows backs himself up to stand in the shadow of the rowan tree. And the Summer Goddess shouts to the spirit within that tree “capture him and let him sleep with the summers until the Wheel of the Year is reborn in the passing of the autumn and winters.”

And the rowan tree leans over to embrace the Winter Lord in its branches and he disappears into the tree itself.

And when nothing remains of him, the Summer Goddess says “shadows to light, willow and birch and rowan, roses of day and night, become as is. So mote it be.”

And she turns round to call out the spirits of the dryads she hears singing in the trees around her. And they come to her, transforming into her handmaidens. She changes them so that they become her handmaidens so that they may walk with her into the forests and out of them to walk through the fields of greatest bounty.

“White roses are the stuff of innocence and purity” she says. And she instructs her handmaidens to gather up armfuls of roses so that they may go into the town and give but a single rose out to every single person that is celebrating the Sabbat of Beltaine.

And she and her handmaidens are walking all along the dense forests paths, through thickened foliage and around ancient trees of sacred power. And then they reach the fields and dance through those.

When they reach the town, she and her handmaidens, fly over the Children of the Goddess, showering down the gifts of roses, and every single person takes and rose and gives grace to the Summer Goddess.

And the May King and the May Queen walk together through the throngs of people, radiating with the blessings of the Summer Goddess. And all the people around them are joyous and hold happiness in their hearts because the winter has passed and there are bright summer days to hold to in the future days to come.