A mere shadow of what used to be

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Sabat
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Behold! the time has come at last.
To start again the ancient lore.
To dance and sing as in the past,
Recite the binding Rune once more.

In valleys deep and mountain high,
Within the circle Deo-sil.
Through the night our souls will fly
Re-light the fire upon the hill.

Dancing, dancing, feet won’t falter,
Chanting praises to our Queen.
Holding hands around the Altar,
Calling forth the Man in Green.

Mighty Goddess, Queen of the night,
Shine your fade down on your children.
Fill our hearts, with your love and light,
We dance here skyclad, no longer hidden.

Twisting turning, Rhythm sound.
Breathless, faster round the ring.
Rushing feet and songs abound,
In praise of the Mother we will sing.

Harken! Soon the Green Man cometh,
The horn-ed Consort will return,
To join again with Mother Earth.
He is Robin, Son of Hearne.

Before the Altar, the chosen one.
Awaits the coming of her lover.
And before this night is gone,
They’ll join, the Horned One and the Mother.


Then let us feast around the fire,
Celebrating love and plenty.
When our bodies finally tire,
Drift away, till the hillside’s empty.

When the sun, rises over the hill,
The circle is empty, ‘cept dying ember.
We’ll dream of the joy, the love and the thrill
This Sabat time we will remember.

For on this night we’ll Merry Meet,
Rhythm of life will beat in or hearts.
The Goddess will guide our dancing feet,
And come the dawn, we’ll Merry Part.

Blessed be, and as I see, so Mote it Be.


Robin. A. Spicer (c) 1998