There is an ancient magic about each of us –
a wild wizard who remembers the times of power,
a witch wise and fearsome who remembers the old spells,
a unicorn under both sun and moon
and a dragon led by a child.
When the witch’s cry goes up like old thunder
it means the dawn is breaking,
and the dark must make way for the dawn,
and the dark will make way for the dawn.
The air breathes before the dawn-break,
“Hail to you, the sun. Hail to you, the moon.
Hail to you, the stars,”
and with the morning sun you rise.

The invocation of your life –
There are words only you can know.
They are strange and unsettling.
You hear them in the dreams that come by night
on the bed, by the window, in the darkness –
but you must speak them. They will scare you.
The sun isn’t big enough for your dark dreams.
The devil saying his prayers isn’t good enough.
These dark glyphs, these emblems…
Do they remind you of your own life?
Does your soul stir with the sound –
call it up from the grave of yesterdays.
Call it out from the void in your heart.

The spell of the unbinding –
The old one said, “Many things you can forget,
but this you must remember:
You are your own prisoner, and you built the prison.
You are the lock and no one has the key.
The doors must be shattered and the hinges broken
for life to thrive, to free love and to create.
To refuse is to choose heat death and ice.”
Release it all. Release it like a tear and cry.
Release it like a mother birthing, screaming.
Release it like a hooked fish into the icy stream.
Release it like a dove from your hands, like a prayer.