The dormant fullness of the present can be expanded and further enriched by magnifications of what the cumulative future holds.
Help me move this last stone into place, and let's lie quiet on the mossy earth, silent enough to hear those hags moon-croon us lullabies of magick.
We are called to vision the new seeds to plant, seeds of thoughts in our psychic gardens, encouraged and supported by nature’s spring hymn.
Give us this day our daily magick. May we see as much of the beauteous miracle of life-giving prana in the unsplit seed as we do in the eyes of a newborn baby. May we dig our fingers deeply in your loam and smear fertile mud on our thighs. May we shake our hips together in divine revelry, and ...