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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

A silence lies on the Wildwood,
The light of the stars grows dim,
The wind has died in the branches,
But a shadow moves. It is Him!
He is the stag in the moonlight,
The stallion alone on the hill,
The bull that paws at the tussocks,
The salmon that leaps in the rill.
Each is a part of the Hunter,
The Godhead that lives in the Dark,
Lord of the Wild and the Hidden,
At midnight, the small breathing spark.
His is the glory of sunrise,
The greenness that rises in spring,
His is the force of the tempest,
The strength in the wild eagle's wing.
His is the voice of the pan-pipes,
The power that governs the land,
But She is his wife and his Mother,
And he dwells in the palm of her hand.
So Mote it Be   )0(

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