                              SAMHAIN INVOCATION


East, the Power to Blow

South, the Power to Glow

West, the Power to Flow

North, the Power to Grow

Cerridwen, we who love You invoke You and ask that You share in this, our
Sacred Circle.  We bid You fond welcome as we join in the celebration of
life.  We are gathered here in this place that is not a place, in a time
that is not a time, to worship You and to revel in Your undyying love.
Welcome to our Circle, Mother of us all.

Herne, we who love You invoke You and ask that You share in this, our
Sacred Circle.  We bid you fond welcome as we join in the celebration of
life.  We are gathered here in this place that is not a place, in a time
that is not a time, to worhip You and to revel in Your undying love.
Welcome to our Circle, Lord of the Dance.

Tonight we join in the celebration of the New Year.  We gather to turn
the Wheel of the Year, to watch as the nights grow longer and the days
grow shorter, knowing that the promise of Spring and rebirth are ever in
our hearts.  The fields have been harvested.  Likewise, it is time to us
to harvest the seeds that have grown to fruitition in our lives, to reap
the growth that we have cultivated throughout the year and to enjoy the
thanksgiving of life, the abundance of love and the special hopes of the
future.
        As the leaves turn in preparation for the coming of winter, let
us set our minds to the time of lying fallow, of gathering strength for
the coming season of growth.  Let our minds and our spirits rest,
following the example of the Mother.
        Rides now the Lord of the Dance of Death which is rebirth,
harvesting to Him the tired, the old and the infirmed that they may
enjoy the peaceful rest of the Summerland before their time of rebirth.
His horn we hear in the wind as it whistles through the trees and in our
hearts as we feel the tug of the Summerland, a promise not yet ready to
harvest.
        This is the night when the Veil between the worlds is thinnest,
when walks the spirits of the departed and the not yet born.  This is
the night of Magickal Times, the crossing over from one year to another,
when old and new meet for a brief moment and all that is unseen can be
seen.  The candle flickers low in it's holder and the children of the
Mother dance with joy at the thoughts of the fallow season.
        A time of resting is upon us as we gather strength and organize
our lives.  Let us rejoice in the rest that we have, while making plans
for the future, tiny seeds tucked away in the bosom of the Mother,
resting until the first rains of Spring and the lengthening sunlight
cause them to burst forth in full bloom into our lives.
