O Mother of Mighty Winds, Queen of Magick,
Come sit beside me, come hear my need
There is one...
Wildcat-eyed, Wildcat lithe,
Soft as fur and strong as a wound-silk whip,
Cool as crystal, warm as a woman is warm.
Her image stirs my blood, burns my nerves, stops breath,
Twists my heart with wanting.
O Mother of Oceans, Cauldron of Rebirth,
Have compassion for my aching need.
I would know her...
Oread she must be, child of high places,
Fatal to fools, ferocious hunter who
Strikes from the crags like the storm wind, yet
Also, fierce in love, flaming beauty, dancing
like sunfire on a fast-flowing stream.
O Mother of Mountains, who demands naught of sacrifice,
Whisper my name in your granddaughter’s ear,
Send her to me...
I would know her, look upon her.
Should she, seeing me, scorn me, strike me down,
Rend me as Your Hounds once rent Actaeon,
Ah well, I abide it, I await it, my heart’s blood
Spilt, an unbidden sacrifice to your splendor.
But, Mother of the Spring’s fecund heat,
You who delight in acts of love and pleasure,
Should that one...
Should she turn her eyes on me softly,
Should she give me her touch,
Should she smile on my devotion,
Should she wrap me in her enchantments,
Why, then, together, she and I could dance
Your ancient dance and, in ecstatic duet,
Make of our passion’s sound a paean to you,
A song to thrill and gladden this whole sad world.
O Mother of Stars, always with me,
You who are the end of desire,
Send my desire to me, to do with me as she may deem