The mist always told me of the treasure it had in store for me. In the muffled silence I could see through the white wall. There was a whole new world waiting on the other side. Through the rushes and under the water. Peace and cool, webs hung with dew. Her voice carried me down, through the water to the opening at the bottom of the lake.
Slingshot through the gateway of the moon, the Lady waited for me. Shifting and changing, bright into dark and back into the moonlit glow, her image flickered. She smiled. I had come home.
The hounds take me onward. Into the blooded night. I bleed into the dark earth, silent. The aching is a connection as well. She witnesses me, and I connect to her. The throbbing continues, a mystery of blood. Although I am silent, she hears me. My silent voice is heard, and recorded. The crone's words still echo in my ears, "Magick is everything. Wicca is your life" And it is so.
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