53 lines
2.7 KiB
Plaintext
53 lines
2.7 KiB
Plaintext
SAMHAIN INVOCATION
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East, the Power to Blow
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South, the Power to Glow
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West, the Power to Flow
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North, the Power to Grow
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Cerridwen, we who love You invoke You and ask that You share in this, our
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Sacred Circle. We bid You fond welcome as we join in the celebration of
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life. We are gathered here in this place that is not a place, in a time
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that is not a time, to worship You and to revel in Your undyying love.
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Welcome to our Circle, Mother of us all.
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Herne, we who love You invoke You and ask that You share in this, our
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Sacred Circle. We bid you fond welcome as we join in the celebration of
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life. We are gathered here in this place that is not a place, in a time
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that is not a time, to worhip You and to revel in Your undying love.
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Welcome to our Circle, Lord of the Dance.
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Tonight we join in the celebration of the New Year. We gather to turn
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the Wheel of the Year, to watch as the nights grow longer and the days
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grow shorter, knowing that the promise of Spring and rebirth are ever in
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our hearts. The fields have been harvested. Likewise, it is time to us
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to harvest the seeds that have grown to fruitition in our lives, to reap
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the growth that we have cultivated throughout the year and to enjoy the
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thanksgiving of life, the abundance of love and the special hopes of the
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future.
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As the leaves turn in preparation for the coming of winter, let
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us set our minds to the time of lying fallow, of gathering strength for
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the coming season of growth. Let our minds and our spirits rest,
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following the example of the Mother.
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Rides now the Lord of the Dance of Death which is rebirth,
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harvesting to Him the tired, the old and the infirmed that they may
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enjoy the peaceful rest of the Summerland before their time of rebirth.
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His horn we hear in the wind as it whistles through the trees and in our
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hearts as we feel the tug of the Summerland, a promise not yet ready to
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harvest.
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This is the night when the Veil between the worlds is thinnest,
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when walks the spirits of the departed and the not yet born. This is
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the night of Magickal Times, the crossing over from one year to another,
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when old and new meet for a brief moment and all that is unseen can be
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seen. The candle flickers low in it's holder and the children of the
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Mother dance with joy at the thoughts of the fallow season.
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A time of resting is upon us as we gather strength and organize
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our lives. Let us rejoice in the rest that we have, while making plans
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for the future, tiny seeds tucked away in the bosom of the Mother,
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resting until the first rains of Spring and the lengthening sunlight
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cause them to burst forth in full bloom into our lives.
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