FULL MOON RITUAL May 1998

Cloud has been at the castle since early morning, sweeping out the crannies of a place long unused and warming it up for the peoples return. The wards are strong, she thinks, remembering the sheer strength of a determined few that put them there, and the gardens, through some magic of their own, are glorious. The sunlit day, heady with apple blossoms and the very last hyacinths, is fading as she finishes preparatory chores and begin to light the candles, lay a fire for the cooler time at the end of the evening, open the skylight to reveal the glow of the rising Moon. She noticed a few more gray hairs in the mirror when she changed into her green-brown robe, but she feels the firetide of Spring straightening her spine a bit, and opens the door to admit a warm breeze and a flaming sunset as we begin to arrive.

The castle was harder to reach this time, but once we arrive it is as solid and sacred as ever, full of hugs for those who have come from different directions but have all come together to observe a cycle as old as the world. We gather, and all who come feel the love of the Goddess through those assembled. And as the sunset fades and the night begins, we form a line at the North door and leaving the warm room to its candles go out into the darker forest. There is no hostility in the branches that reach out to touch us as we pick our way down the twisty trail; the trees are saying hello again. The footing is safe but careful, the new leaves rustle, the air is full of that combination of leaf mold and blossom that speaks of the rebirth of Spring, the thyme in the circle, the wintergreen in the woods. And when we reach the end of the windings, the ancient oaks whisper hello as we enter a circle old as time, floored with selaginella, forest moss, and creeping thyme that smells delightful and doesn't mind our feet. Somehow there are no acorns underfoot. In the fading light, we can see the white glow of dogwood blossoms back in the wood, and now and then catch a gleam off the curious eyes of some creature come to watch. The altar is an old flat boulder, perfectly centered in the circle, and at the quarter points stand smaller rocks, suitable for candles and offerings. We know from experience or intuition that once this circle is cast the candles will not blow out, so a basket near the altar is full of them: all shapes and colors, ready for the choice of those who invoke the powers, and for others who may wish to pick one for a petition. Around us in the branches hang sparkling silver ornaments, placed there during a Yuletide circle in times gone, and they glitter in the increasing moonlight. The Moon will smile straight down into this circle at her highest point, and already she lights our steps.

We hold hands around the circle for a moment, conjuring the power inherent in the will to come together, feeling the Earth through our feet, waiting, until Cloud steps to the altar. She places her two hands on the rock for a moment, looks into each of our eyes, then picks up her athame to walk all the way around the outside of our circle. For this occasion, she will use old words: *I conjure thee, o circle of Light, container of power, sustainer of souls; boundary between the world without and the place of no place, between the world of hours and the time of no time; aid in endeavor, instrument of the hearts song. That thou bless and consecrate the work within, therefore do I bless and consecrate thee.* Boundary drawn, she rejoins the circle of human hands. *The circle is cast. We are between the worlds, beyond the realm of time. Our burdens are outside and we are here and only here, now and only now, together in the love of the Gods*

So mote it be, we answer, as we turn to Nymue to invoke the powers of the East...

...Nymue' steps forward, a ring of Dianthus in her hair in honor of the Flower Moon, a robe of midnight surrounding her. The brightness of the moon casting it's gentle glow upon her as she slowly twirls and faces the East. Lighting a white candle then raising her arms she calls: "Hail Watchtower of the East .. Guardians of the Air, We greet you now in perfect love and perfect trust. Powers of Air! We invoke you and call you. You, who shape mountains, caress us with your breezes. You, with the power of the mighty gales, cleanse us with your breath. By the air that is Her breath, send forth your light. With your gentle and powerful ways We ask you to protect this circle. We bless the elements of air, and gather here to honor the fullness of the moon. Goddess, Hear my words! Nymue' traces an invoking Pentagram in the air with her Athame feeling a great rush of wind smooth the curls off her face. So mote it be!

Nymue' turns back to the faces of the circle, a breeze quietly fills the air, causing the candles to flicker with their dance of the night, while the Guardians of Air, Watchtower of the East... stands sentinel. Nymue' returns to her position within this circle of love and trust ..and awaits...

...One River remains still for a moment to allow the element of air to make it's presence known... the breeze of acceptance to witness gently lifts the deep blue scarf she has tied at her waist as a skirt... an ivory crescent graces the lower edge... as a soft blue one rests upon her forehead... around her waist are thirteen shells she has fashioned into a belt and in honor of the Season... the rising light of the Big Sun... a tier of gold drops loosely between her unclad breasts... the same breasts which now have nourished three daughters, three sisters... sustaining the Mother's cycle... a continuum not only a season... but forever... and the golden tiers fall in the shape of a yoni... each piece a tiny sun wheel woven together to mark the layers upon which our own lives are formed... the strands which link us all... but from larger to smallest returning to the One.

She steps first to the altar raising her open palms high over head and then moves to the South... she envisions a dolmen of weathered gray... and through it's portal she sees.. the shining sands of a desert against a midnight sky... the grains have captured the light of day and seem to shimmer against a backdrop of cobalt crags rising from the desert floor... in the distance stands a single cactus with three blossoms of brilliant red... closer examination reveals petals of flame upon the cactus... fire of inner depth... fire of manifestation... fire of expanding starlight...

One River raises her power hand to mark against the sky an invoking symbol of fire...

Oh Guardians and Ancient Ones of the South... Hear my call to witness our rite... You of the inner dance - of active desire... You that heal through transformation... You that forge through change... You that feed through outward creation... You of untold age... I remember...

Be with us now...

One moves to the stone marking the Southern Quarter then lights a blood-red candle whose flame answers the call to witness and from a basket left earlier removes a bouquet of green that burns her hands even as she touches it, reminding her of the Fire within us all... she lays her bounty upon the stone, and leaving the nettle upon the rock - returns to the circle and waits...

...as Rowan steps forward wearing a shimmery blue dress that gives the illusion of water when she walks. Moving to the western point in the circle she raises her cupped hands in front of her and takes a deep breath.

"Greetings spirits of Water, honored protectors of the deep oceans and flowing rivers. Lords of the Western watchtower we call you here. Gentle our emotions. Bring peace and joy to those gathered here and open our hearts and minds. As the water is ever changing and flowing let us also be! Come grace our circle this moon and guard us well as we celebrate. Be here now!"

The scent of oceans move upon the breeze as Rowan lowers her hands to light the blue candle in front of her. When she turns those gathered can see droplets of water clinging to her dress and hair. She smiles to everyone and moves back to her place to await...

...Again One River pauses before moving into the circle as the element of Water makes it's presence known... for a moment she sees Rowan herself almost as vapor, and as Rowan returns to her place the fresh scent of ocean wafts by the others as she passes... One moves to the altar and once more raises her open palms to the deepening sky, then moves to the North and envisions a Dolmen of weathered gray... and through it's portal she sees... a dolmen yet beyond and then a third which opens onto a massive door hewn of oldest oak and bearing a crown of moss as if it were cut from a living tree... the door is opened ever so slightly so that which is hidden also intrigues... tempting one to seek the deeper mystery... the door gives way to a rock tunnel that narrows to a channel of pitch that then opens into a massive chamber so black it blinds like the brightest day... so cold it warms like life's surrender... so peaceful it compels return... and lining the ash and sooty walls are red handprints of those who came to speak with Mother and the deep rock pulses with primeval yearning to relink to that which propelled forward - at the center rests a cauldron where bubbles rise like this moment of time... where bubbles rise like that moment of time... some born and some long passed away...

One River raises her power hand to mark against the sky an invoking symbol of Earth...

"Oh Guardians and Ancient Ones of the North... Hear my call to witness our rite... You of the moments between, you both vestige and doorway... You that renew through deepest repose... You who house the journals of time... You that weave the cloak of eternity... You of infinite design I remember... Be with us now...

One moves to the stone marking the Northern quarter and lights an ebony candle laced with strands of silver... the beginning flame leaves them for a moment in total darkness in answer to the call to witness then shines beyond into the night... and from a basket One had set before... she draws a single antler marked with the rune of home. One River places this on the rock - returns to the circle and waits...

...Kiri Sue has stood in silence for much a long time as all others in the circle waited. And waited. A few have become impatient, she is sure, but no one could tell. Her friends and circle mates have remained silent as well. Much thoughts have passed thru Kiri Sue's mind as she has stood, calming herself, allowing the mundane world to slip by into another place. Allowing the Goddess to wrap around her in love, peace and joy. Now she is ready. Kiri Sue walks slowly to the center of the circle. Her white flowing gown is loose and edged with spun silver lace.

It is simplicity and elegance. Upon Kiri Sue's crown rests a wreath of ivy to symbolize the foreverness of the circle. As she reaches the center, she stops, then turns in a circle as she raises her hands toward the sky. Her bare feet seem to barely touch the ground as the moonbeams shower down upon her, illuminating her newfound peace. At this moment Kiri Sue is as much a part of the moon as she is of this earth.

"Goddess, Earth Mother, caretaker of us all, I call to you to bless and join our circle of positive thoughts and actions. To honor us with your presence and your love. To be one with each and every one of us for that we know your power. Your glory. Your honor. So that we are but an extension of yourself. So mote it be." Kiri Sue stood still as the moon beams seemed to gleam brighter and the wind blew gentle against cheeks caressed by tears. Silently, Kiri Sue returned to the circle, making way for...

...Norda to step forward from her place in the Circle, her feet moving surely in this place which is no place, timeless, limitless, and sacred. She has forsaken her usual gowns this Moon and stands garbed in black tunic, boots and leggings, venerable stovepipe hat upon her head, its crown ringed with the new shoots of oak leaves. Her silvered-over brown hair is plaited into a stubby braid at the back. The fresh moss and grass at her feet seem to be springing ever more to life as the others in Circle await her speaking.

"Hail and welcome, great Lord of Life, Father of all, found in spark and scion. Sage and Scholar too are you, wearing equal faces. Fill us with your energy, catalyze us with your wit and wisdom, be with us on this night... join us in our Circle!!!"

Giving each friend here a twinkling gaze from blue-grey eyes hidden only partially behind glass, Norda lowers her hands and resumes her place in the Circle, to await...

...the beginning of petitions. Cloud stays in her place, and takes a hand on either side. We stand a while, breathing the wood scents around us, feeling the energy. Up from the Earth through the oak roots and our feet, down from the smiling Moon, power surrounds this place and our lives. She recalls the words of the Charge: 'If ever you have need of anything, and better it be when the Moon is full, gather...' Gather we have, those present and those gone before whose power still abides in this place where love - of the Earth, of the Gods, of each other - is the only constant. The time of Love is eternal; the time of Power is *now*. The Circle awaits the first to speak...

...in Norda's small hands appears a ceramic potpourri "house", quaintly Victorian with a turreted roof. She lays it on the altar with a silent smile...the Great Mother knows what is in her heart this Moon...

...Kiri Sue steps forward once again. At the altar, she stops, takes the circle of Ivy from her head and places it upon the altar. Inside this circle upon the altar in a circle, she carefully places a handmade clay statue of a woman with babe. She looks up toward the stars and the moon, which twinkle silver in the dark night. "Goddess, thank you for my daughter. And thank you for my soon to be grandson. I shall always care and provide for them as you have cared and provided for me. I ask simply for the wisdom to guide both upon the hard path before them. And that you walk along side them as you walk along side me." Kiri Sue stands for a minute at the altar, thinking of this afternoon when she felt her grandson stir in his mother's womb for the first time. When she first saw the pure joy reflected in his mother's eyes. When she heard her daughter say, "I'm glad you shard this with me." Then she looked toward the moon, toward all her circle mates. And spoke softly to all, "I'm glad you shared this with me." Silently she returned to her place to await...

...Cloud practically bounds forward, and places on the altar, for want of a better idea, a tiny replica of her office chair. Slightly tiddly with the marvel of unexpressed wishes granted, she breathes thanks to the Goddess, and after a long gaze into the smiling Moon, knows she'd better address the humans around her: *Some of you knew I had a situation of job instability that I was hoping to have settled by the end of the fiscal year. It was to be my petition this Moon that that be accomplished if it was for the good of all. I am grateful and tickled pink to announce that the situation has been resolved!* With a sigh of relief she goes back to her place to await...

...One River waits until Cloud seems more... uh... centered... and has rejoined the circle, and grins about not wanting to be run over by Cloud's exuberance... but happy to see Cloud so happy!

One stands for a moment joined by hands with the others... and feels the energy pass around the circle... feeling it run from hand to hand to hand and back again... then steps forward.

She removes a deerskin she had draped over the altar on her arrival to this sacred space... thinking she heard a soft grunt from a certain Red Deer past as she lovingly placed it there... she takes it now and lays it across her shoulders... this is the skin of a deer that her own daughter had helped clean... old and worn is this skin... balding in places... shake it and hundreds of tiny hairs escape in the air like the tiny drifts of a dandelion when blown. One River had left this skin as it had been taken... had not stripped it.

One remembers the night that Kelley and her Father stood beneath the deck of their home, under a tarp with a flashlight, carefully and respectfully preparing the deer, trying NOT to rouse the neighbors who were Militants for the Sierra Club... not wanting to raise THAT lovely Crone's ire with this "distasteful" thing... she a woman so grounded to the Earth... and yet so removed from man's part in the process... the mutuality of existence that includes man as long as all are met in respect.

As touched by a lover One River is struck by all the memories of this skin against her own bare back... and with these emotions of deepest passion and connection her eyes brim with salty tears that flow from within... out... and on... she reaches to taste one with her tongue as it journeys down her face.

River lifts the skin and raises it high over head to seek Mother's light...

This Friend has been with me through snow and rain. This Friend has been my womb. This Friend has been my protection and portal. This Friend has been my tomb

Bless me in the realm of change. Bless me in the candle's three. Set my steps to home again. As I change... I change thee. Mother... Bless the curing of this hide as I remove the past from its skin and build my life again.

One River takes a feather from a Red Tailed Hawk that has traveled with her for sometime... Although this Friend is part of my past... it has always looked forward... let it be the first to grace my beautiful friend in transformation.

By all present and with your Grace, Mother... let it be as I have asked...

One waits for the petition to reach the Mother's heart, but knows... she is only following a path already set before her.

Returning to the circle... she waits...

...and Cloud waits too, to see if there is anyone who wishes to speak... then seeing none, she continues:

"We stand hands around the circle, energy moving around us in the Presences we have called, through us from the Earth and the glowing Moon, from one to the next around and through, until at last our feet move of themselves and we begin to circle together, deosil, not too fast at first. There is a sense of another circle around us, between our hands and the embracing oaks; we have felt it before- of our own who have gone on or perhaps of Others, but tonight someone brings to mind a chant we all pick up...

*We are a circle, within a circle, with no beginning, and neverending*... around it goes, around WE go, no beginning, and somehow we sense neverending... Indeed, outside presence hugging our ring and to move becomes to dance, and there is a drum somewhere, and we begin to speed up, flying feet, beginningless with no end, round, faster, and the power builds through and around us until it flies* and we let it go, sure as swallows, to where it belongs, grounding power through our feet.

The chanting has changed. The Goddess is alive, magic is afoot, the God is alive, magic is afoot, and perhaps our names begin to appear like a litany: Kiri is alive, Nymue, One is alive, magic is afoot... perhaps some of the names aren't ours, for Sharon, too, is alive, though absent, so is Midnight... Red Deer is alive, magic is afoot, Teri, Willow Sage, Arcadia, Shegar, children of this place carrying magic afoot wherever they are... the Goddess is alive indeed, and magic is afoot always. And the undertoned chanting continues as each of us goes to the direction of the Power we invoked, bidding hail and farewell in our own fashion.

Cloud waits until the farewells are done, and takes our hands once more. Old words of parting and unparting:

*The Circle is open, but unbroken. The Rite is ended, but never ends. Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again*

*SO MOTE IT BE* we reply, and dissolve into hugs and grins that will carry us to feasting, the Moon smiling over our shoulders as we take the twisty trail. Wherever it is that we gather again, She will be there...