We make our celebratory circle,
From clothes, hurriedly cast off,
Thrown aside in all directions.
Then skyclad only, we meet,
In the centre of this sacred space,
Connecting heart to heart, skin on skin.
This is the ritual of our passion,
We practice the same moves,
Honed to perfection over time,
Become poetry through repetition.
My offerings to you, with joyous lips.
Your fingered offerings to me returned.
We take each other into the depths,
Of this most ancient mystery.
The wonder of joining, of finding
Each other and losing ourselves
All over again.
Time outside of time we make here,
Space claimed from mundane use,
Transforming all into wonder.
We honour the primal rhythms,
And the gods of creation.
Divinity revealed in your lifted horn,
Goddess wisdom in my arousal.
Somewhere beyond the frenzy
Of stags in the rutting season,
After this song of reproduction ends,
There waits a place of peace
A still time, a secret time,
When neither moves nor breathes,
An infinity between heart beats.
Then my soul touches yours,
Touches all things, knows all things.
In love with all existence,
We float awhile, embracing.
The moment passes.
Perfect in its fleeting beauty.
One soul divides between two bodies.
We unmake our circle, so must it be.
Gathering up scattered clothes,
To hide exquisite skin once more,
To unweave the boundaries set
Between our world and the other one,
Between dreams and cold living.
Unfetter the power raised here,
And let it flow beyond our circle
To do as it will, as it must.
There is no other enchantment
Comparable to this, no spell,
To change my life as utterly
As you have done.