Bringer of Light & Master of Night...
Stepping through the damp grass with my bare feet, I can feel the shift in my heart and my fingers clasp more tightly the hand of my Priest… He smiles at me, chuckling a little at the excitement he sees filling my eyes… It’s been that way time and time again… And his eyes reflect the same flash of wild, primal excitement…
So aware of every movement … Of the breeze on my skin… The salt from the sea loch, tasted in my mouth… The damp, crisp grass beneath my bare feet… My dress of white linen flapping around my ankles in the breeze… My torc heavy around my neck, my hair loose and tickling the side of my face… The beating which is my heart threatening to pound out of my chest… A rustle in the trees… An early bird cry, off somewhere over the bay… The quiet, whisper of those present… Eyes watching me as I take leave of my Priest, and they fall silent as I walk the circle…
I walk the circle and pour the water… Again as I lay the flour… Again and again, listening to the sounds around me, the nature spirits, our ancestors, feeling the way it draws me in… And again and again, over and over, I glide through walls of air, mist and rich incense smoke… I feel some Unseen shift in time, and voices murmur and I quiver, as they drift around me… Spirits… My Antlered Woman with blazing red hair blows a kiss to me through the mists from the trees… A Stag and a Raven surge past her and brush unseen through my body… A ceremony long ago… Cloaks of feathers, and visions of deep candle-lit caves… Images forgotten… Remembered…
In the swirls of morning mists, I can feel Him most profoundly… I smell woodsmoke and blood… His smell… The Stag in rut, the musk of sex, the heat of wild, primal passion…
He is here…
I hallow our compass…
Raising my voice, calling the spirits, the beloved dead, our ancestors, to join us and celebrate… Through the mist I see the silhouette of a man standing still… I glide closer… He smiles, and I close my eyes for a moment… I am weightless, immovable, until the words of my intent slide through my mind again and I feel a strong hand on my back…
When we come together at the stang, I have lost awareness of anything beyond what we are doing here today… My Priest takes my small hand in his, and gazes down at me, wonderingly and touches my face … He puts his arm around my shoulders and we both look up at the same time…
The mist has parted, and the deep blue of the early morning seeps across the bay and up to us on our rocky outcrop… The Sunlight beams between the trees, and over the single standing stone, before hitting our stang, our altar… A Crow nearby caws as the light spills down onto us…
We raise our voices in welcome and we dance… The beat carries through us… An Unseen beat that we all feel… Wild and joyful… Spinning and jumping… Barefoot…
I dance His dance…
...In the Chimehours... 