June 6, 2011

Spell of the Crossroads

Spirits of this place, weirds of needled pine, of stout oak, weirds of ragged grass, of wild onion, of nettle, of dandelion; weird of the seven-sharp holly, weird of the brown rot mask that hides a black soul, weird of the choking wet heat that rakes fingers into every space, weird of the buried stones, weird of the iron spikes, weird of the screeching locust swarm, weirds of the twilight birdsong, weird of the water trickle, All you indwellers of this lonely place, the strength of the mighty God's blessing be yours, as my words speak it so!

The Master of the Word is present in this spell spoken for you, made potent with the warmth of my breath and my very life! Know that His power swiftly accomplishes what my words declare. Here is the Water of Life, and the white milk of the nourishing cow, poured into the land for your increase.

By your leave, let it be that I pass through your tangle of bodies and shapes unseen! Faces in the ground and wood, move aside, give way, and part the hedge for me, beyond which lies that Hallowed and secret place where the Road to the North crosses the Road to the West- the radiant and dark heart of all places, which touches all lands seen and unseen and joins them together in fateful union. There at the crossed roads, I will make petition to the Master who has flown on the road of the Sun to his invisible throne at the crossing of every forest, road, hamlet, bog and meadow.

Cunning Master, Oldest Thing in the Land, Clever One that moves to the ends of the Earth and back again with the ease of thought, you guard the gate marked with your own sign, admitting whom you will. Open the Door to All Places for me, and let that door close when it must again. Master with two faces, Master who holds the keys, Master of spirits, herald of Great Majesty, open the Door to All Places for me! Between the country of living men and the country of dead men, let me know the true gate and the true crossing in my soul, and let my fetch move like a luminous moth through the eternity beyond.

You are the utterance of these words, Master; I celebrate your invisible fire in me, and my flesh thrives with your secret life. You indwell this very breath! So let these words pass the Crossroads on the witch-wind and reach those powers that my heart desires! In the Name of the Old Trinity, So mote it be.

1 comment:

  1. Wow! I love how you can write so poetically. I can think and see poetically, but I can't seem to write poetically. How do you do it?