Trace the serpents 'round your wrists.
Flinch not hence they writhe and hiss!
Send it forth when fear shall come.
Think on it not 'til deed is done.
The Goddess bids, your fate at hand.
With the God do for the land.
At Beltane fires know him bred.
Come Samhain, Yule, lay him dead.
Doubt not once again he'll rise to set anew the sacred ties.
For all things come, and go they must.
In this cycle put your trust.
Priest and Priestess study long.
Their knowledge left in lore and song.
Of magick words and herbs they told.
Much wisdom in that lore of old
Perform their rites before the hearth.
Of Water, Fire, Wind, and Earth.
Sing and dance and drink your mead.
Before the Goddess - done the deed.
Cast a circle, step inside.
The Moon has passed it's setting tide.
Skyclad arms raised to the night.
And feel inside reflecting light.
Maiden, Mother, Crone are here.
The God is beckened to come near.
Staff and chalice join as one.
The blood of life begins to run.
Kneel to North and kiss the ground.
Inhale the song-like Eastern sound.
Warm your body to the South.
Let Western wine wet your mouth.
To the Goddess one last thought,
To heal the pain that we have wrought.
Close the circle. Rites are done.
Welcome him - the dawning sun.
