father, brother, friend,
you are the ancient runner of the woods,
and we long to follow you in the chase;
ancient sitter by the fire telling tales of old,
we sit at your feet to learn our stories;
bright eyed, laughing friend calling us to dance and sing,
our love for you is the sign of our brotherhood.
You are the waxing oak who grow in strength with the sun;
you too are the piercing holly
that bleed away the waning year.
Though we see in you the man we want to be—
strong and wise and loving and giving—
yet we fear to admit weakness and ignorance
and the resentment born of those things
that challenge, smite and—we fear—will finally overcome us.
So we call on you, O Horned One,
help us to remember that we are brave,
that we can rise again when wounded, stronger than before;
and most of all, let us never fear to love;
and in the love you bear us,
strengthen our working here now to remind us
that always is your protection with us:
full measure, patted down, shaken together, running over.
Let your presence now be upon us,
a warm and protecting mantle of strength.
Welcome and blessed be.
Our friend, laughing Lord,
do you tease us in gentle fun
for asking your help in our work here today?
Brother walking with us,
do you smile indulgently
at our fear and insecurity?
Father, wise Lord,
you have let us have our way
because in our working we have faced what frightened us:
by confronting fear we have made ourselves brave;
by confronting weakness we have made ourselves strong;
by confronting our woundedness we have healed ourselves.
You have taught us to be like you:
to rely on ourselves but to help each other,
to be independent but to work together.
And so we offer you our deepest thanks.
O Horned One,
farewell and blessed be.
Listen to the words of the Great Father, who in days past and present was known as Herne the Hunter, Pan, Cernnunos, Osiris, Odin, Zeus and innumerable other names in a multitude voices.
I am the brilliant sun that fills the skies. I am the soft fingers of light on the Great Mothers breast. I am the sweet, soft kiss of love on her lips. I am the deep primal scream of desire that rises from her tongue. I am the flame of lust in her eyes and the lover in her arms.
I am the fiery passion that spreads her open to receive me. I am the creative seed planted deep within her fertile, dark womb. I am the vital spark and the heated embrace that ignites the fire of life. I am the growing, and expanding energy that blazes within - joining with her to create and change all things. I am the balance; my light to her darkness, my fire to her flood, my maleness to her femaleness. Together we are the sacred whole.
I am the rising sun, flaming in the sky. I wake you with a morning kiss, my light upon your cheek. I burn away the darkness of night, and draw you into the light of day. I will inspire you and illuminate your path with creativity and wisdom. I will guide you through the paths of life. You will celebrate me as the sun rides the azure skies and as the flames of summer burn.
I am the spirit of the wild. I run free and unfettered. I dance in the dappled light of the oak groves and hide in the deep shadows of the ancient forests. I am the laughing presence in the wild places. My essence the spirit of calm and the peace you find amidst the trees. My songs is heard in the whisper of wind. My secrets warm your soul like the sun on your upturned face. I am the caress of memory in your mind.
I am the essence of all thing sacred and untamed. I am the Lord of the dance, the ancient one whose face is seen in many guises, whose voice is heard in the zephyrs breath and violence of the summer’s storms. I am the dancing whirlwind and the laughter that calls to you upon the swirling air.
I am the silent listener in the woods. I am the voice of apprehension - the eyes in the dark; that bring terror to the faithless hearts. Cloaked in the darkness of all nature I defend Mother Earth with my body and spear. I am the watching eyes time.
I am the stag running in highland meadows. I am the roaring Lion on Africa’s untamed savannah. I am the falcon soaring through the summer’s scorched skies. I am the power and strength of the wild beasts. I am the grace and stealth of the winged ones. Tiny or immense my essence emanates from their forms. I’m the dance of primal joy – wild, exuberant, limitless and free.
And yet, I am the hunter- the sure arrow that pierces the heart, allowing the life blood to flow and seep into the rich, brown earth. I direct the passage of life and death. I am the destroyer and devourer. I am hunter and the hunted. I am the panic and anguish of the prey. I am the power and cunning of the hunter. Living and dying - I am timeless and unending - the keeper of balance.
I am the sun that warms the frozen ground and the fertile seed that sprouts within the mothers soil. I am the seed of grain, grown to full measure, waving majestically beneath the shimmering summer sun. I am the shaft of ripened wheat, destined to fall, a sacrifice before the "sickle of time" to nourish and sustain beast and man alike. I am the grape ripe upon the vine, crushed and poured out as a libation to slake your thirst. I am the wine of laughter, love and joy. I am the sacrifice and the promise of renewal. I return to the earth, as the cycle demands - a life bound to death - to be reborn once more. The endless harvest of plenty, the sacrifice of life for life.
I am the keeper at the gate. I will take your hand and whisper to your soul as you breath your last, and then step with you into the beyond. Protecting and guiding you to the new path which you are to create.
Come forth Raven Goddess, Phantom unseen
Step forth from the shadows, wild Battle Queen
Swoop o're the land, black feathered crow
Bring fear to the hearts, of the enemy below
Nightmare of fury, who bears freedoms sword
Ebon haired Goddess, who kneels at the fjord
Banshee of fate, that chooses the slain
Ferrier of souls , who will live once again
Across misty veil, the souls journey you guide
From birth through to death your the wings that we ride
Shapeshifting Goddess, in darkness give sight
Rise up on dark wings, that are black as the night
Wife of the Dagda and Cuchulain's bain
Crone of the cauldron, who is never the same
Three in one Goddess, wild and untamed
MIstress of Magic, of battle and change
Blood of the dying and blood of new birth
your crimson tears feed the cold winters earth