There were five of us who gathered
on that summer solstice evening:
one who sang,
one who drummed,
one who welcomed the Fae,
one who embodied love,
and one who tended the fire.
We all brought food, of course.
Fresh bagels and cream cheese,
hummus and tabbouleh,
salads, grilled salmon,
tart local strawberries with home-baked scones, chocolate
and colourful French macaroons.
Our ritual was deep
and heart felt — a recognition and celebration
of our unique
and vital powers as witches and
it’s integral connection
to the magic of each other.
And while we sang,
and laughed, and danced,
the crows called in response,
the fireflies danced in the woods
and the Strawberry Moon rose as our witness —
silently through the leaves
of the trees
in the pale blue summer sky.
When I look back on the treasured moments of my life,
I know that I will remember that night
of simple caring and companionship.
Though some were missed,
we formed a perfect pentacle.
Where each touched the other directly:
some across the lines from point to point,
and others round the circle.
Image credits: Apologies to artists unknown