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POSTED UNDER Moon, Wind

Spell: Invocation to the Crone

Color of the Day
Incense of the Day
 
As the year wanes, life dwindles and withdraws. Flowers die and go to seed. Trees lose their leaves. Birds fly south. Animals hibernate in their snug dens. The world grows old. This is the time of the Crone goddess. Her withered limbs have carried her a long way; now she is tired and ready to rest. Ancient wisdom twinkles in her eyes. Call on her and she will share it with you.
Crone Goddess, Hag Goddess,
Grandmother Moon –Hear me, I'm calling you!
Let me bring you a blanket
To warm your old bones.
Let me sit at your feet
And listen to your stories.
Crone Goddess, I'm calling you!
Come to me now!
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