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Me,Myself and I, Words from a Solitary Practitioner

A Solitary Imbolc

The sound of the bell fills the air, soft and low
As an ancient reminder As Above, So Below
The practitioner stands in the velvet cover of night
So there’s no interruption to this time honored rite
She stands still in the darkness, firmly wrapped in her cloak
And centers her energy to welcome Imbolc
The natural items on her altar, become magic in her hands
As has been the Witch’s way for many years, in many lands
The golden glow of candle light, the sweet smell of burning herbs
In perfect love, and perfect trust she say’s her heart felt words
She gives her thanks to the Ancient Ones then leaves the sacred place
She walks softly on the mother earth and her passing leaves no trace
A Solitary Wiccan, yet she knows she’s not alone
All the children of “The Craft of the Wise”dwell in this sacred home.