We raise our voices! we raise our hands!
to the earthmothers loving lands.

To the cleansing water, the fertile earth, to the fire wild and to the winds free.
We beg of thee to spring realease and this winter seace!
three times three so mote it be,
Three times three so mote it be,
Three times three so mote it be.

The chant echoed in the valley low,
And the water glistend in the shape of snow.
As our women wise, begged the goddess to rid them of winters ties.

The winter had been long and hard.
With the tarot they had dealt the card.
They'd had to use every morsel of their herbs.
And the goddess did listen to their words,
And found their harths true.
And soon life sprang anew.

Under the light of the new moon.
They knew that soon.
The seeds was to be set for beginnings new.
And with new beginnings comes ridding of the old.
They burned what reminded them of things no longer told.

As the moon grew fuller so would their power.
The time for Eostre, the equinox was closing in by the hour.
They would pay their heed to the goddess of the east.
And their call will never echo to the beast.

For magic big and small, can be found within us all...