FULL MOON RITUAL December 1998

Glistening crystals lay fragmented on cheap formica while vague fluorescent lighting dimmed the process of reality within the removed realm of the indoor playground. She raised the mustard stained napkin to wipe a bit of something from her mouth leaving vestiges of the stain behind. Upon the table she had traced a series of spirals first turning outward, then turning inward, then outward again and in their vision resounding the very pattern of the breath that sustained her.

Anglesey in her exuberance to match every moment with equal consumption had overturned the salt as she moved away from Mother to embark on her own. A clatter of trays in the corner caused Annie to look up from the table , and she saw Anglesey through the plexiglass managing a metal wheel as if it were the helm of a ship. From the sway of her tiny frame as she sang some song that was soundless to others, Annie filled in the rhythm with, "I'm getting closer to the shore, I'm getting closer..."

It would have seemed a very profound moment except the multitubed conglomerate of entertainment in which Anglesey played reminded Annie so much of an exaggerated habitrail, and the juxtaposition of inane against the ineffable made Annie break into a full belly laugh. But then this was the WAY of the Goddess - diverse components meeting in symphony that defied labels.

Oh, not "the Way" warbled by the ragged hippie 60's superstar as he lamented the outcome of his brief run outside the temples of the lean well coifed priests with heavy neck chains fashioned in less than subtle decadence foretelling the coming decade of fettered opulence with reversed sequence of demise....one replacing the other with paralleled selfishness...all voiced in the name of the Father, but "the way" of those who first crawled into caverns through endless channels of darkness and terror, narrow, twisting passages some so small the devout could not stand but squirmed like worms tunneling through her hidden chambers. This was "the way" that first found it's position within the human psyche - the path of seeking a return to the beginning - to relink with creatrix(or), with the spirit that moved their feet across cold stone to unite with she who had brought them forth.

In the stark white trails before her, Annie perceived another design unlike the others. Not symbol, but lines connecting and intersecting with some degree of intrigue, compelling one to follow. And, then she unmistakably knew - it was a map, it was "the way".

Another crash, brought her attention to Anglesey as she bounded toward Annie asserting her right to attention. Annie pointed to the window and low on the horizon a great white orb rose just above honking cars and Mac trucks juggling for space and racing to the next red light. "Look, Mommy Moon," she said as she pressed her cheek to A'cee's. The small one turned and only eyes remained as she embraced the sight with a whisper, "ah, it's Mommy Moon, Mommy."

As they drove back to the farm, Annie was thinking of the salt design; it led to the place of her last dedication of path, mountains remote to her now by distance and years, but not beyond travel. She would be there this night.

At home she tucked Anglesey in for the night with special sweetness. "Your smile alone could carry me there little Faery, but you need to rest." Annie kissed her gently on the cheek and moved through the cold to the paddocks just beyond the yard.

This was an odd area that appeared to be divided in quadrants, although the measurements were not that exact. This particular section seemed to arc toward the sky, and if one stood in the center the feeling of earth falling away lifted one like the wings of a giant bird. It was here Annie lay her Navajo blanket. She placed a circle of stones around with an inner circle of cornmeal; Annie then strew a layer of sweet grass, cedar, and mugwort forming a soft pallet to which she retired and totally enveloped herself with her deerskin. She lay motionless with the vision of the three spirals pulsing behind closed eyelids; their design captured the same promise of the stars above her -breathed the same breath of the Earth beneath her, until it was there no more.

When once she was aware again, she realized that her spiritual navigator must have been Loki. He had not landed her quite in the expected place, but at the foot of the trail that would take her there. It was only a short hike from the road to the falls but as one passed through the trailhead that also marked the beginning of National Forest, ownership dissolved to universal possession, and what lay beyond belonged to all.

A light dusting of snow met Annie's feet as she stepped over the style, crunching softly under her weight, in sharp contrast to the chest deep snow she had waded through nearly 5 years ago. This part of the trail followed a wire fenceline construing a civil barrier between the converted and the wildness beyond. It was only an illusion of division as the forest spilled over into the conquered area with every manner of intrusion it could manage. Once winter totally set in, the man-made demarcation would be lost to the rising snow. Only the gateway would be maintained.

Annie followed the fence line, watching each step carefully as jagged rock broke through the fine layer of soil one found at this altitude. The trail was somewhat obscured by the towering Ponderosas and Jeffries whose fallen needles playfully concealed the path here and there challenging one to connect ones steps like a colossal puzzle that would result in a beautiful vision on completion.

The pines rose from the forest floor in absolute purpose, bound for the sky with unabashed devotion. Here and there a monstrous cedar would break the landscape, trunks so wide one could not wrap ones arms around the base. Here and there, tiny saplings struggled to find a home amongst the parent trees.

Many believed that the roots of a tree were nearly as deep as the trunk was tall, but mostly the roots are closer to the surface, and with these giants, Annie imagined an elaborate winding of roots that ran beneath her feet in an intelligent web of give and take - nourishing, self, supporting others - all bound in systemic balance.

As the sound of rushing water seemed to journey away from her a sharp turn in the trail instead brought the churning stream in full view as Annie broke into the narrow canyon.

Above her, Mt. Pinos was draped in white as it would be from now until almost mid summer. Even at this level snow remained in patches and ice laced the rocks as night reclaimed the mountain. While the trail was easier to discern at this point, stream on one side, rising rock on the other, one did on occasion have to circumvent huge boulders dislodged by the weight of snow and shifting ground. To stay on the path sometimes required leaving it, crossing back over the stream finding footing on smaller stones or dropped limbs then snaking back as the terrain permitted. At times wet feet could not be avoided; at others a sharp strike of Nettle directed one back to the rocky tiers. It was sometimes difficult to determine the most efficient way to plot one's course, often it was determined for you, but strangely once one took the first step toward the falls, like a salmon heading upstream, few denied the urge to go on.

Midway to the falls, a massive rock bridge united the shores of the stream. It was here that Annie would ask the others to join her. She laughed as she thought, "Annie, who ever came up with that name?"

One River could taste the ice on her tongue as she caught her breath. The cold fragrance of rock and forest filled her as she turned back to see the valley cascade away from her in a flowing geography of change - here was the stone walk that joined the Mountain, then there was meadow fenced by pinion and bound by a set of rolling hills that fell to the desert floor sweeping outward in mystery and industry. River thought of the petroglyphs secreted in the austere desert landscape, but the monument of sacral language that broke the sky behind her most intrigued her spirit.

The canyon formed a graduated horseshoe carved from the solid walls of Mt. Pinos. The falls were not the apex, but the offspring of the pinnacle above. Melting snows ran deep under the stone then seeped through cracks in the granite and sod to form a tiny spring that lingered a moment as it was birthed from the mountainside, only to spill over the edge in a wave of abandon. Below, the waters regrouped in a quiet pool then followed the call of Ocean many miles yet beyond. On the left the canyon was a defiant sheer of crags and roots. Few attempted that climb though One remembered her own imprudent expedition there. And, the opposite side of the canyon had yielded to the heavy snows in what remained a river of broken stone and torn trees that angled up to the first band of high meadow.

One River straddled the rocks that formed the natural bridge, water pulsing under through the crevices and channels as best served its obligation of forward motion, and she in a wide stance began to sway from foot to foot seeking her center.

She held her arms in front of her palms upturned to sky, continuing to sway, becoming the space she occupied and listened for..

...Nymue' had heard her Sister's call, to join once again, under the fullness of the Moon, with brothers and sisters both old and new. Nym' felt one with the rich darkness of these woods. Ancient memories fill her, I am sister to the flowers... to the mossy rock... the nearby stream... the old, towering pine... the butterfly and spider... I am sister to the Sky and the Earth.

Nymue' steps forward, encompassed in gossamer. Upon her shoulder is perched a hawk, with eyes as knowing as the ages. She stands for a instant enveloped in the moon's magickal glow. Taking a moment to saver the gentleness of the night air, the softness of the velvety grass beneath her bare feet, the distance echoes of a flowing brook, and warmth of the fire, she slowly twirls and faces the East.

Lighting a white candle she calls:

"Hail Watchtower of the East... Guardians of the Air, gentle sprites and airy sylphs. We greet you now in perfect love and perfect trust. Powers of Air! We do summon, stir, and call you up to witness our rites and to guard the Circle. We invoke you and ask you, caress us with your breezes, guide us with your gales. 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. Hear my words!

As she raises her hand and makes an ancient sign overhead , the hawk resting on her shoulder takes to the air. As he soars circling those gathered, a gentle breeze appears, the higher the majestic bird rises the more powerful the wind becomes. Nymue' lowers her arm as the bird returns. "So mote it be!" Nymue' turns back to the faces of the circle while the Guardians of Air, Watchtower of the East stand sentinel. Nymue' returns to her position within this circle of love and trust and awaits...

...Morrigan, who turns to the South, and places an ancient spear-head at the quarter point. Holding her arms aloft she lifts her voice,

"Spirits of the South, I call you! Keepers of flame and desire, come to us! Rulers of passions, protectors, come, join our circle, lend us your will. Warm us, protect us in our rite of honor this moon."

Morrigan's arms lower to her sides. She breathes deep of the night and the scent of smoke fills her nostrils, warming her, reminding her.... She turns again to face the circle and awaits...

...Elenya, who slowly enters the circle wearing her favorite forest green robe. Her feet are bare, but do not feel the cold, as she is warmed by the gleaming faces of friends gathered, old and new alike. Her auburn hair gleams in the moonlight above, and its warmth is captured in the amber than encircles her neck. She turns to the West and raises her arms up to embrace the sky. After a moment of silence, she begins to speak

"Spirits of the West, I call upon you tonight. Keepers of water, the liquid of life, wash over us with your cleansing powers. Guide us and protect us and the work we do on this night of celebration. We invite you to join our circle and be with us now."

Pulling a seashell from her pocket, Elenya cradles the shell gently in her hand, and fills the shell with water. She slowly steps back into her place in the circle, setting the shell behind her to mark the western quarter. She faces the circle and awaits...

...Eurojo steps forward: She can still hear the sound of the drums in the distance as she walks the red earth towards the Smoke that Thunders. The once burning hot sand has grown cooler now under her bare feet. She walks alone, using the thundering cloud of spray from the waterfalls as her guide.

Ever wary of the predators her eyes dart left and right. As the sunlight dims the crickets begin their sunset chorus and the sky ahead turns dark through the flocks of birds moving to their nighttime resting places. She sees antelope grazing peacefully ahead of her and somewhere up ahead the familiar croaking sound of the hippos tells her she is drawing close to the river.

The nearer she comes to the cascading waterfalls of the Zambezi, the more she feels at one with the earth below her and the sky above her. The sound of the drums still reverberates in her head and her blood pounds in her ears and she begins to connect to the spirits of the ancestors, gathering them into her. At last she comes to the place where water quenches the thirst of the earth, where the leafy sky of the rainforest calms the raging fiery heat of the sun. She makes her way down through the rocky places until she comes face to face with the waters of the Mosi-oa-Tunya.

Turning to the North, she faces the mighty falls whose spray drenches her skin and looks upstream along the river. She stands in the cradle of humanity where all creatures were born of Mother Earth. Drumming her heels into the wet ground as her ancestors have done for centuries she reaches down and pulls up two handfuls of the wet, red African soil. She calls out: "Come, ancient spirits of the North, children of Mother Earth who is our beginning and our ending, our life and our death. We stand firm in your strength. We shall look to you now for our protection as we make our Circle to honor this full moon. Be part of us as we are part of you."

She inhales deeply and makes the ceremonial markings on her face with the red earth. She turns once more towards the circle and waits...

...One River listened as each wonderful friend came forward to call those who watched the four corners of the Earth. Although River knew each of these Women to be strong and whole, she also saw the qualities of the directions they called intrinsic to their individual natures. When Nym stepped forward, beginnings and inspiration were carried on her shoulder along with her Hawk; Morri in decided motion brought fire with determination and commitment, she met life with the directness of light penetrating the dark. Eleyna's ability to love and move through her life with fluid change and receptivity was cupped in the shell she had placed in the West, and Jo was home to at least fifteen nations, had birthed a women child to whom she was passing these connections and the red Earth with which she marked her face itself perhaps home to the first human Mother as her Jo's spirit had stepped back to her African home.

As each spoke or brought vision of a direction, River's feet began to lightly tap the rocks beneath her. Foot to side, foot to back then in place with a tap and the opposite foot moved, made sound, and the action repeated on the opposite side... a slow but solid collision of human flesh on Mother's bone... tap tap... tap tap... TAP... taptaptap... tap tap... tap tap... TAP. taptaptap....with this motion, over and over feet struck stone... not Hurried... not forced... but a rhythmic manifestation of the energy feeding through the soles/souls of Rivers feet from the stones on which she stood... she was not the initiator of this rhythm but the vessel through which it passed.

She would call the Greenman to be with them this night, but his eyes had watched as they took each step on the trail, he was here.

She would call the Great Mother to be with them this night, but it was her blood that coursed under their feet and it was her smile that lit their MoonMinds so they might receive her blessings and strength, she was here.

A traditional circle would not be cast tonight. As every space that Goddess fills is sacred, all being Goddess, sacred was this site. The Great Trees that rimmed the canyon walls stood as vigilant wards of their gathering, and the energy and prayers brought to this rite would resound on the canyon walls then rise to be released to the universe where the work would become manifest.

River's feet continue to dance the stones, her whole being now only the echo of the Mother's heart... she began to perceive the very molecules that formed this space and she began to envision the web of roots from the trees as a giant wheel that began to whirl with the energy of the dance...though this was not the tradition of many here, and mostly not tradition at all, River began to sense those around her also join the rhythm, some danced, some swayed, some simply became the sound, until as one they tapped twice to the side...then twice to the back then in place tap and the opposite foot tap... tap... tap... in healing meter that transmuted each to a level of change and power... they danced and waited for...

...steps forward, draped in the night blue cloak with the silver thread, now well worn with the stains of many a hard won battle. Her eyes close for a moment and strains of an ancient Celtic song woven by unseen voices wafts through the air, a small silver flask appears in her hands. With a broad smile and a small jig step she pours a wee dram of the golden elixir into the fire and takes a small sip herself. She raises her eyes and her arms to her Mother.

"Mother, the wheel turns again, always returning, always rolling forward. So it is that you have brought me back among those who were so near and dear to me, so it is that you have brought new stars into my skies. As I have grown and changed so have they and yet... the love has not changed, it is as it always was, and as it always shall be - the eternal flame that warms our winter nights and keeps the beasts from out doors. Thank you."

Ocean moves about the circle kissing warmly each dear friend old and new. Lingering a moment longer to clasp the hands of he who helped to set her feet upon this road of so many moons ago, smiling softly she kisses him, - thank you for... everything. Leaving the flask upon the altar, she steps back and awaits...

...Nivasi enters the circle of light, nodding to all who are present. She lays her staff before the element of wind, walks up to the alter and places a single seed there.

And simply walks to her place, gazing into the fire.

...An owl, hushed on wing, took off from Boudica's shoulder, as she began to pick up the rhythm that One River tapped. She was in her blue-as-night gown, down to her feet, with tiny bells on her ankles, and no shoes. She stopped, and looked around the circle that had gathered. She danced to her left, bells keeping time and taking One River's hands, did a spin-dance with One River, picking up the rhythm as she went. She went around the circle, did a spin-dance with a few more of the familiar faces she saw, tiny bells keeping to the beat. It has been a while for many. Elenya, they spun around, its been a long time. She went to Nymue, did a little spin-dance with her, glad you sent the invite to the group. She danced to Morri, dear woman, so good to see you again, they did a spin-dance, picking the beat while they went.

She danced to the center of the circle. Tapping her foot, bells tinkling, she looked around the circle at all the familiar faces. And all the new faces. Merry meet one and all.

She looked to the sky, the moon full, the face of the Goddess lighting the whole circle. Thank you Mother, for all these wonderful friends.

She bowed her head for a second, a small, private petition escaping from her lips, quietly.... She then looked around once more, and, picking up the tapping, she extended her arm, and the owl, silently, dropped to its perch on her shoulder. She danced back to her place in the circle to make way for...

...Ramoth can feel the love that has drawn her to this place as a tangible beating inside her breast. She steps forward into the circle of Magick and feels at peace. Slowly she turns and looks into the faces of her new friends, gaining the courage she needs.

Ramoth slowly looks up into the night sky, so magnificently lit by her Mother and raises her arms. "I thank Thee for the love that I feel so intensely this night. I thank Thee for sharing Thy mysteries with me as I walk this Path to which I am so new. I have found, in You, myself. Please help me to stay Thy Path in all I do and say. I thank Thee for my teacher and for my new friends. I am truly home."

Ramoth slowly turns and again looks at the shining faces of all of her new friends. A tear rolls down her cheek....a tear of sheer joy! She steps back and waits...

...Red Deer moves inward, silent but for the quiescent ringing of tiny bells. In his mind, the image of trees' clasped hands beneath the Winter soil, much as others gathered had and would again clasp theirs beneath a Winter's moon. After a long moment of silence, he produces three branches of Wintersweet - whose leafless stems are adorned only with the tiniest of white flowers. Almost instantly, their honey and vanilla heavy scent fills the circle, as they had the cold-weather garden - reminding all gathered of the life's sweetness even within the icy calm of the season. Leaving this simple gift of our Lady and Lord, he returns to his place in this circle of family long-known and just met and waits...

...Arcadia steps forward from the Circle of love, and catching a glimpse of Mother Moon, her breath catches in her throat as it always does, at the sheer majesty of the moment.

Her long dark brown hair cascades down the back of her purple robe, the golden threads of the many sigils reflecting in a wondrous contrast to the silver beams emitting for the moon's glow.

"Mother, I stand before you, in love and honor,
I bring to you a problem that is heavy in my heart,
One that I love dearly, is hurting, and while I stand
beside him everyday, giving warmth and love,
I ask that you look done upon him,
and bless him with your love,
and strength through these trying times.

Her lips move silently, then she turns, and takes her place once again, in the circle, and waits...

...Marsali, who steps hesitantly forward, garbed in a thin black robe. She finds it hard to raise her eyes to meet everyone's as she is nervous, yet exhilarated to be asked to participate in this, her first ritual. She looks up at the moon, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, and from beneath the folds of her robe she brings a small woman's ring, set with a small diamond.

Taking another deep breath she says, in a small voice that grows louder as she gains confidence, "I thank thee, Lord and Lady, for this life full of wonders and new experiences. An it please thee, I ask for blessing for the owner of this jewel, as she is in dire need of love and peace as she is going through a very tough time and rehabilitation. My love to thee and my thanks."

Face flushed with nervousness and love, Marsali kisses the ring and places it on the altar. She steps back and breathes thoroughly of the crisp, cool air as she inwardly sighs a sigh of relief for having done her best, and she waits.

From off in the far, dark distance, the music of voices like the most fragile of crystal bells drifted towards her. A tender warm breeze touched her face. Sweet scents of Fall's leaves filled the air, as if in celebration of the Wheel's turning. She shook her head at her self, the little dreamer within that these days, in this foreign place, among foreign people, felt all the more silly.

Yet, those barely audible voices still traced their way through the night air. She looked up at the Moon, shining gloriously brilliant blue-white. Ice clouds high in the atmosphere refracting the light, forming an exquisite halo of tiny rainbows. A big, beautiful rock, illuminated by the Sun hidden now far beneath the horizon.

She blinked, looked down upon the ground, gently alit from the Moon's light. She chuckled softly, chiding herself for her silly thoughts. Gently shaking her head, she sighed, looked up once more and froze.

"Oh, you are so beautiful, Mother!" she whispered breathlessly, tears welling suddenly in her eyes, a burning knot filling her throat. "Oh Mother," she whimpered, "guide me, please. I am so lost and frightened. Please, just hold me."

Turning her gaze towards the ground, she sat down upon the edge of the cold sidewalk. The breeze shifted and for a moment the sweet voices seemed nearer, clearer. A small smile came upon her face while she listened.

"Mother," she whispered, "thank you, for those voices out there somewhere. They're You. They're singing for You, Mother. For Your Child. For all this time, all this place, everything. For Father, who's sleeping now... He really is a good Dad, isn't he, Mom?" she looked up, tears flowing down her face, Mother Moon's Light a swimming image before her.

A gentle, low voice warmly replied "Yes, Child, He really is."

Her lips quivered terribly, a rush of fresh tears falling from her eyes. "I miss Him, Mom."

"I know, dear," the tender voice filling her mind, "He'll be back, child."

"I miss you too, Mom. I really do." the words escaping her in broken pieces.

"I know, child, I know."

The air about her became a gentle, warm embrace, her tears instantly ceasing, as her body leaned a bit to the side.

"Mom?" her voice a questioning sigh.

"Yes, dear?"

"Who are they? The one's that are singing out there?"

"They're kin, dear."

"Are they gonna be okay? Are they gonna be safe?"

"Yes, dear, they'll be okay and safe."

She paused a moment. "Are we gonna be okay? And safe?"

"Yes, dear, we'll be okay and safe."

Sadness twisted again in her chest, tears rising once more. She tried to bring the words to her voice.

"Yes, child," the warm, soothing voice began, "we'll find our home some day."

There were so many more desperate words straining to be said. Before the sentences could form completely, an acknowledging tender hug wrapped around her and a soft happiness flowed into her Spirit.

In the quiet darkness, in the gentle, loving, warm embrace, time drifted away.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Thank You."

"For what, dear?"

"For everything. For being there. For being You. For my family. For all the Blessings You and Father share. For helping us as we work hard to help ourselves... For everything... Thank You, Mom."

"You're welcome, dear."

Smiling, she nestled into the warm space, looking out into the dark, towards the direction of the voices. She smiled and sighed.

"Be well out there, kin. Be well and with no harm I wish you Blessings and a good Yule. Be safe, be well, be with joy, be with love... just... be."

Gently smiling, drifting off to sleep within the safe, warming arms, she whispered, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, child..."

...Nancy grasps her serpentine staff and slowly moves to the center of the circle. Her companions, a red fox, horned owl, and black jaguar accompany her. She turns her face to the luminous orb of the moon, smiling softly as the silver light strokes her cheeks. As she speaks, she grows pensive: "Inamaka, Great Mother Earth, and Cuwe, Wi, my sister Moon, tonight I come to you asking that healing energy be sent to my father. He is weak and unable to care for himself. May the way be opened for him to receive the care and treatment he needs in a place of safety and love. May he be returned to us stronger, healthier and ready to begin a new life free from addiction. May I be strong enough to help him, and patient enough to give him the time he needs to heal." She is silent for a moment, hesitating - the jaguar-Goddess nudges her hand in encouragement - "And for myself, Dear Mother, Blessed Sister, I ask that the time be close for the arrival of a companion and loving partner. I have been alone for some years and have cherished my solitude. Tonight I acknowledge my desire for a mate. Inamaka, Mother Earth, I thank you and will at all times seek to protect you. Cuwe' Wi, Sister Moon, I thank you for your illuminating light on all the matters that are in my heart. Pilamaya! Hetch Atu Aloh! Dane' Ho!" Nancy and her familiars bow to the group and return to their place in the circle...

...Elenya enters the circle for a second time, feeling somewhat nostalgic as she remembers gatherings such as these in the not too distant past. Her eyes are soon fixed upon the silver orb that glows above, and as she closes her eyes, she whispers a silent prayer to the Lady and Lord who watches over them all. Turning to face the others, Elenya recalls a prayer etched in an ancient stone, which she now shares:

"In beauty may I walk. All day long may I walk."

"Through the returning seasons may I walk. Beautifully will I possess again."

"Beautifully birds... Beautifully joyful birds..."

"On the trail marked with pollen may I walk. With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk."

"With dew about my feet may I walk. With beauty may I walk. "

"With beauty before me may I walk. With beauty behind me may I walk. "

"With beauty above me may I walk. With beauty all around me may I walk. "

"In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk. "

"In old age wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk. "

"It is finished. May you walk in beauty."

As she recites the last line of the prayer, Elenya walks and lays a single hawk feather upon the altar. Silently thanking her dieties for all she now has and for what lies in the future, she returns to her place in the circle, and awaits...

...Tathagatha steps forward, from elsewhen, perhaps late, but trusting in the Powers to deliver his simple addition to the Ritual.

He takes but one long step toward the Centre of the Circle, seeing naught but the traces of those who had come so recently, but too recently for his errantry to wait; yet the Circle had endured by the strength of its Love.

His cloak, Black trimmed with Silver, flashes briefly as he steps into the now-dimmed Light which was cast. Lacking all else to give, and rushed by mundane deeds pressing, he stops but for a moment, and produces a blessed Athame from a hidden pocket.

He slices his forearm; but shallow, and speaks: "By the Lord and Lady which I served, and now serve, and always shall serve, and in the name of those who have come before me, I swear by mine own blood that this Circle shall be wrought, with Love, anew, One Moon Hence; So Mote it Be, or I shall make it so myself." Then, he looks into the distance and smiles faintly, for the Powers are familiar with his hubris and will abide it, because of his usefulness, and because of his Loyalty.

And as his blood falls upon the now dying blaze, the cauldron shines brightly with a brilliant Silver hue, and now casts shadows of deepest Black upon its perimeter. In these dark shadows, potentials of unplanned, beneficial things arise, and possibilities increase. And as the Spell has its effect, he hopes that those whom he Loves have felt its force, be they at a distance; the blaze at the Holy Place seems to dim for a moment as he intones their names. He tends to think in colors when it comes to this type of thing, whether the birthrighted bearers of the respective tones know aught of their design or function: Midnight Blue, with Silver, and Red, also with Silver, and Green, Silver and Brown, and Green and Yellow, and Purple and Silver.

Later, he sits alone, at the edge of the Circle, and breaks fast with a spare meal he calls Kingsfood; he saves back a little bread, a little cheese, a little fruit, a little meat, and a good swallow of wine. After his fast has been broken, he turns to the Four Directions, bows each, and pleads Peace with the Powers thereof; and gathers the sacrifices together and casts them into the now blazing flames, and says: These things of my possession I give to the World, and Lord and Lady. By this Sign do I troth my plight once again with all my beloved, who were gathered here but moments ago. He then bows his head, and murmurs lowly, to none but the Highest: "So Mote It Be." And he turns then with an abrupt swirl of his cloak, and strides off into the forest which had grown since his arrival...

...Morrigan left the moving rhythm of the circle and walked into its center. From her leather bag she pulled a simply rendered drawing of three cups. She lifted her eyes to meet the gaze of the Moon, letting its silver light bath her face and body. "Mother, I think I understand now those words you whispered to me months ago. I guess I was too stubborn to listen closely back then. I thought I could do things the old way. But you have shown me that in order for new growth to come, the old growth has to be cleared away, and sometimes letting go is the most difficult thing to do. Thank you for your guidance and patience with this old bull." As the shadows bobbed around her, Morrigan let the picture fall from her hands into the fire. She watched as the edges caught flame and curled inward upon themselves until only a charred black ball remained. She returned to the circle and found her place within the dance again... tap tap... tap tap tap...

...Owl steps quietly into the Circle .. looking around at all the shining faces and grinning widely, she feels bubbles of joy erupting in her heart. New faces, old friends, .... and for a moment, the silence is a gift that lets us all enjoy each other.

From the folds of her robe, she takes a handful of gifts from the Mountain. An acorn, already sending out it's first tendrils, the future Oak glistening in the moon light. It's tender shoot pointing like a finger toward tomorrow... A cluster of Holly berries. Bright red berries... now glowing darkly, almost black, in the Moon light. A pine cone... a branch of hemlock... and a small stone... glowing and reflecting the Moon's light... it's called a Shattered Quartz ..

Placing the gifts at the Altar, Owl takes her Bodhran and begins to play. Slow beats, at the heart of the drum, the voice of the skin resonating a heart beat ... then doubling the beat... and doubling again... til the triplets bounce across the skin in a rapid dance of taps, and echoes.

As the drum sings, Owl whispers quietly to the Lord and Lady... "Thanks for this gathering... thanks for bringing us all safely to a new harbor... thanks for all the wonders you've showed us over the past years."

"Blessed Be."

Stilling the drum... Owl waits for the echoes to fade, then steps back to the ring, with a sigh of contentment. And waits...

...Lucian steps forward into the circle, his body cloaked in the shadow of a black robe. Is face, what could be seen from beneath his hood, was featureless. He slowly approaches the Altar, all the while singing a melodic tune. The sounds of a thousand voices join in from the mist which has formed about. Once he reaches the altar he pulls out three candles. The first is a pure white. Upon it there has been inscribe various characters. They spell out "Truth." The second candle is an emerald green, and as the first is inscribe. The Letters thereupon form "Harmony." The final candle is a brilliant red. It too is inscribe, this time with the word "love." He places the three candles upon the altar, forming a perfect equilateral triangle. He then presents a large crystal bowl field with water, and yet another candle. This candle is one of the deepest black. Upon it is inscribe the word "Solitude." He places the bowl in the center of the original three candles, and then places the fourth candle inside the bowl, the tip extending approximately one inch above the waters surface.

His settings prepared, Lucian then removes a match, strikes it and holds the flame to the fingers on his left hand. The instantly flame up. He then holds his fingers to each candle, lighting first the white and saying, "Let truth enter into my life." Then the green candle. "Let harmony join us all together." Then the red candle, "Help us to show love to all your creations." Then finally the black candle, "Remove the shackles of solitude from our lives."

He then quenches the flames on his fingers in the palms of his hands. Focusing all his energy upon the center, black, candle, Lucian envisions the solitude that he and many others have felt melting away from them and entering the candles flame. He sings a tune of infinite sadness and sorrow, which brings tears to the eyes of even the least emotional of the group. Eventually the candles flame dips beneath the waters surface and dies, taking all the solitude and sorrow with it.

Lucian then steps forward pinches out the remaining candles. He takes two steps back kneels down and then leans forward till his head is touching the earth beneath him. He remains like this for two minutes then rises and sings, "Sing Praise to our Lady for all she has given. And I'll sing Praises to our Lord." This being done he retreats back toward the rest of those gathered and waits...

...Nymue' steps forward once more. The magickal mix of old faces with new is deeply moving. The love and trust that has grown in this place is matched by its natural radiance. Nymue' moves to embrace her Sister, Annie... how can she thank her for bring such a grand tradition back to life here? Nym' knows it is her turn to approach the Lady once more. Turning her face to the moonlight, she draws a single white candle from beneath her robe of midnight. A ring of rosemary surrounds the pillar with inscriptions of an ancient alphabet. Words of love and protection are imbedded in the candle. Lighting the candle, Nymue' speaks: Brightest Lady, my oldest child is about to be married... I have my doubts, my hopes, my fears... but most of all I know I must allow her to find her own way... fly or fall , she knows I am here for her. My your light shine brightly upon her, lighting her way. I ask this of you Blessed Lady, watch over my child. Before Nymue' can return to her place... a star streaks across the sky, burning brightly with hope and love...

On through the night the drumming of feet continued; each who desired stepped forward to give blessings or ask that the Mother be with them on their path. And, when the last had spoken and rejoined the effort, the unison of sound expanded around them to completely fill the canyon.

The rhythm of Mother was the Mana of the canyon; the tapping feet had only connected with the energy that was already here, that was already *in* each dancer. And, as they danced the link grew stronger and rose in a spiral of sound, a procession of will and connection, a *memory* chord that pulsed in rhythm with the swirling stars - the breath of beginning, the work of becoming, and the faith of return - tap, tap, tap...

There was no arranged decision to stop the drumming, but as each found his or her own moment of completion - and having served the purpose of the whole - each moved away from the Mountain, retracing the steps that had brought them here, on down the rocky path and through the gate.

One lone dancer remained as dawn leeched the darkness from night, maintaining it in the hidden places until the hours cycled 'round again.

River had seen the tracks of Bear on the trail; the Rascal had been down in the settled land, breaking the boredom of those who imagined themselves pioneers. He seemed to occasionally like to tease them to places more remote in their "self" journey and was adept at reminding them that wildness had left footprints on each of us.

River had also seen Bear in a dream before coming here this night and knew it was not time for her to leave.

As she continued to dance, she gave thanks to each who had joined her this Moon and she gave invitation to join her again.....then simply stopping...she turned and moved on up the canyon.