The henge old and ancient
Has seen lots of souls
Felt the weight of the many
Exchanging their goals
Admired even more
Robed in many a hue
Creating their circles
It’s what druids do

In the footsteps of ancestors
Many may seek
That physical power
That even the meek
Prevailing to conquer
Imagine that they
Pick up on the ancients
Who would have walked this way

A great omnipresence
An almighty power
The tilt of the frost
Spreading over each hour
The light holds a crispness
On what is hallowed ground
Where each of our spirits
We feel we compound

The craft and the magic
Enchantments galore
The shadows we hold onto
Constant and raw
The glimmer of hot breath
Collectively rising
As the ritual transcends
It is seldom surprising

Still alone holding hands
Lets just make it be
A world of such blessedness
Waiting to see
A coming together
A sanctification
Of ideas and and feelings
And unctuous revival
Of true dedication

Yule is upon us
With a sweep of the hand
Winter rolls in
With our log fires now fanned
The ice and the snow and the hail
And the rain
And the wind and the frost
The greatness and we deign

To see slightly further ahead
To the time
when the snowdrops
And gracefully climb
Out of the shadows
Each magick embrace
Bringing enlightenment
Back to the space

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