“I am the crone, I am the heart of every winter, I am hand that brings forth death, through death I bring you life…my time again is at it’s end turn the wheel dear child and let your voice sing, let all hear the maiden’s song as winter turns to spring.”

The maiden both beautiful and strong bowed her head and turned the ancient wheel lifting her voice in spring’s sweet song. The first flowers began to burst forth from the earth’s cold hard soil and the sun shown high warming the world again from winter’s frosty toil.

“It is the time of Ostara let the first signs of spring from the ice enclosed earth now bloom, let these tears I shed melt away all of winter’s gloom.” Like a rose first opening it’s crimson pedals to the sun’s full light the maiden ripened near the heart of spring just in time for the fires of Beltane and all that love can bring. It was on Beltane’s Eve the maiden would the horned one meet and in love’s embrace a child conceive.

The maiden bids her love farewell and as the Summer Solstice comes into view she finds herself with child and as the sun’s path comes nearer to the earth how longer the light seems to dwell so grows life around the young mother as her belly starts to swell.

As the young child in her womb begins to grow so the mother nurturers the earth’s sweetened soil bringing life to seeds she doth sow.

All is fruitful at Lammas when harvest feast begins, there is much bounty left to store for winter as the Fall Equinox begins. It is the time of balance when day and night measure the same.

Colder become the days as the leaves turn colors bright, less now begins to come the sun’s distant light. The veil thins between the realms of worlds to us unknown as winter breaths it’s icy breath gently at our door, it time of Samhain for now summer is truly no more. It is the night of spirits, a night of magic and mystery dear Samhain known now as Halloween to you and me. Now ripe with child and wisdom learned the wheel of the year is yet again turned.

The crone steps out from the night a smile on her ancient face as she steps up to take her rightful place.

Soon the days become less and the nights increase the light of the sun seems to cease. On the night when darkness outweighs the light time of Yule, Winter Solstice comes the celebration of light as candles burn bright far into the wee hours of night.

All fruits of the earth are covered with cold, ice and snow it is summers decay and death the crone shall sow.

Soon the wheel turns to Imbolc and the there are stirrings in earth, as the mother gives birth. A new maiden is born and the mother now crone teaches the child all she has known. The wheel turns again another year passed, one filled with change for no year is like the last.