Was on the porch watching the full moon rise.
Made me recall a lyric I wrote a few years ago as an exercise in imagery.
The Wizard Works Tonight
clouds pass between his failing eyes
and the bright Hunters Moon
he draws down its' energy
he’ll draw his circle soon
on an altar made of solid oak
he’ll lay his magick tools
and through the incense rising smoke
he’ll glide the tarots’ fool
“Hear my cry My Maiden
My Mother and My Crone
for the greatest rite I have not worked
comes not while I’m alone”
Earth and Water feed his desire
on this waxing night
in the chilling Air and by candles Fire
the Wizard works tonight
the waning days have passed on by
as the moon returns from new
did he see her yesterday
in the steam of his cauldrons’ brew ?
perhaps tonight by the Maidens’ grace
he’ll know the very night
and on that night he’ll know her face
and work the fertile rite
“Hear my cry My Maiden
My Mother and My Crone
for the greatest rite I have not worked
comes not while I’m alone”
Earth and Water feed his desire
on this waxing night
in the chilling Air and by candles Fire
the Wizard works tonight
now Mother is full and beyond stone walls
wind carries passionate cries
the Wizard and his mortal maiden
work the greatest rite
© 2005 CAW
All Rights Reserved
You should set that to music!
A Boo back atcha!
