Then The Night Came, Like A Ceremony*

I don't know, maybe this happens all the time for other people, but, for me, there are these amazing, transcendent moments that don't come too often (it's like the poem by Sara Teasdale, "For one white, singing hour of peace, count many a year of strife well-lost") but that confirm so much. I mean those moments when I "know" that I am where I was always meant to be. For me, at almost 54, those moments come, more and more often, on one side or other of the Potomac River, in a circle of women, witches, magic-workers gathered to work magic. They come on Dark Moons, and Full Moons, and on the 8 Sabbats of the Witches. They come when they will come, but, when they come, that's enough.

May it be so for you.

*From lyrics by Christine Kane

Picture found here.