The Circle Of Love Poem by Patrick William Kavanagh

The moon draws near, stirring blood, and raising shadows of our distant past.
Long forgotten instincts come to life, and yawn and stretch, awakened like a feral cat.
Passions stir our loins, and strange and unfamiliar moods assail us as we walk amongst the silvered trees.
Our Lady lights the Sacred stones, in wonder and in gratitude we fall down to our knees,
and touch the cool, damp, moonlit grass.
At least for this one blessed night, we are at home,
We feel at ease.

The lord and lady wait to greet us with their torches burning bright, -that none may fall,
Assembled friends, our brothers and our sisters, slowly circle, clasping hands, so healing may be shared by all.
Some dressed in robes of many hues, some clad in sky, but all are clothed in Love.
All filled with gratitude for one more chance to meet and greet, and share the many blessing from above.
And so, the circle raises,
as we call the quarters,
and the blessings of the gods.

Our naked feet draw strength from Mother Earth below,
We softly chant her praises as we feel our sorrows washed away,
This night, once more we bath beneath the Goddess' loving Glow,
Who knows, or cares, what troubles will be sent us in the coming day.
Many of our sisters have been burned, or stoned or drowned,
But, someday ignorance will pass,
and one day, Truth and Beauty will abound.
The day will come, when We can hold our heads up high with pride
That blessed day, when no longer, Cruelty and Bigotry abides,
Within the hearts of men.