July #2

To Leave, To Love, To Make

To Leave

The heat leeches from my dry skin

as soon as I abandon the hearthside.

The house sleeps behind me,

and in my seven layers I go

into winter's night under new Moon.

Seven shades past black to true dark.

With finger whitened to bone, I cast circle,

shivering inside.

The earth plane drops away.

I am between the worlds.

To Love

To love the world so much

that magic must be done

close to equinox

when the Moon is yet to swell with possibility,

and the world teeters between death and life.

To love the world enough

to hold seven veils of chiffon

and have them fall, one, two, three,

through the chant

for the dropping of illusion,

truth to be revealed,

for honesty and love to show through.

Seven veils for the seven gates

of Inanna.

To love the world so much

that corruption is willed away,

and lies in government

grow thin as chiffon.

A chant, a mantra for each veil,

a gateway into light.

To Make

In the last minutes of the new Moon,

before She begins to birth herself,

with the power of seven elements – 

air, water, fire, earth, metal, spirit, mind – 

I feel in my cupped hands

the idea of how the world could be,

and it sings one united clean song.

I feed in energy, through the top of my head,

down my body, out my hands,

strengthening, enlarging the vision.

I let it go to embrace the world.

The spell is done.

Circle is open, unbroken.
The hearth welcomes me as a pilgrim.

— Helen Patrice