Aug 01, 2006 13:19
Thus shall the praises sound of Leukothea; ever thus while praise shall
be:-
The crystal-flashing splendour of her love pervades all things,
nourishing and renewing.
Of her bounty she gives secret dew into an earthen cup: those who love
her drink deeply of it, and she casts around them the brightness of her
regard.
Treasure of the day is she, and mystery of night.
Before the white-fire face of the Moon she chants; and a lone devotee,
enscorcelled, staff broken and magick set to naught, casts himself,
powerless, into the dark gulf of her being. Thus without choice he
waits, until the vision of splendour and flame arise, and wisdom be his,
or madness.
Upon her palm the single flame quivers, seeming air-nurtured. Hand upon
hand. Sign most awesome.
The beryl-stone in her circlet becomes a pool filled with waters of
compassion and clear vision; whoso gazes therein shall mount a winged
steed.
The crystal-flashing splendour of her love pervades all things,
nourishing and renewing.