'Hear now the words of the witches; the secrets we hid in the night.'
The candles burn.
The wind will chime.
The fae will dance 'round the balefire wild.
We join in their dance under the moon so full; on a night so free.
The ritual spiral summons the energy.
The coven chants in perfect harmony.
With the old knowledge to practice ancient ways, and craft with secrets we held so safe.
'Thirteen powers the witches claim, by right of magic in Hecate's name.'
The personal altar, blessed and consecrated.
A bastion of magic, a place for the Gods.
The witch casts there while the familiar sleeps.
To bring good luck the spell she recites,
To see the future the tarot she likes.
To heal the sick it is herbs that she burns,
To balance the light it is darkness she churns.
The witch song is so sweet and haunting,
spread through the night like a lark.
The song of the earth in harmony with hers,
Water, stone, blood and bone;
Let her take you home.