On ancient hilltops of long ago,
As three familiar beings
Unite to make one soul.
Treasured thoughts of yesterday
Secrets safe in time,
As three gather together
To chant their ancient rhyme.
“Mystical magic combined,
With the unity of three
To bring forth the power
By the Goddess, so mote it be!”
I am the Weaver, Enchantress, and Crone,
The giver of magical sight.
Mine are the last before they are first,
In the silent silver sliver of waning moon light.
“Mystical magic combined,
With the unity of three
To bring forth the power
By the Goddess, so mote it be!”
Mother am I to the child come to living,
Teacher am I to the children of the Earth.
My face can be seen in the full silver moon light.
I am the holder of the gates of rebirth.
“Mystical magic combined,
With the unity of three
To bring forth the power
By the Goddess, so mote it be!”
I dance unclothed and alone in the wood,
Under the waxing silver moon of the night.
Maiden am I of idea’s and imagination
Where the fairy play under the crescent moon light.
“Mystical magic combined,
With the unity of three
To bring forth the power
By the Goddess, so mote it be!”
Shadows of darkness,
Pleasure of light,
Death and rebirth,
Wrong into right.
We are the Maiden, Mother, and Crone
In three different beings we stand undone
To find the hidden remains of our hearts.
United by the power of three to become one!
by Stephie Pie
