On this night of thinning veil 'neath death's dark cloak, a shadow falls.
As spirits call their eerie cry we meet.
Hands wrenched tight in circle cast with cauldron burning bright.
By flight of bat and wind so chill we wait,
On cold, damp earth by elder tree born of blood and bone,
A sudden chill with pounding heart we call.
As midnight rises through our veins and sacred herbs we burn,
Our darkest fears are manifest; the Shadow spirals in; we cry.
Yet on this eve of thinning veil the darkness we embrace.
A womblike shroud o'ere us all; we hold our breath we wait....

Janis 25th October 2003

(Updated October 2010)