The Blessings of Moon and Sun

The blessings of the sun are the heat and the light,
Flaring heat like a flaring, beating heart,
And new hope after the terror-dark of the night,
And brilliancy to rival the sculptor's best art,
And wonder as the sky is painted with new hues-
Not only new shades of blue, but newborn blues.

The blessings of the moon are shadow and dreams,
Shadows chasing each other like trails of stars,
And a sickle-edge that into roundness gleams,
And a rebirth again from behind dark's prison bars,
And inspiration and love for the changer-
To no transformation is her lover a stranger.

The blessings of the light are many and sweet,
Whether I walk in the moon, and love argent,
Or walk, dancing, basking, in the sun's heat.
Such loveliness is glory, is heaven-sent,
And I sometimes wonder why we turned away
From honoring them as gods, lord of day

And the moon as the silvery lady of the night.
This is the closest to true worship I can come,
Gazing up in wonder at the changeable light,
Or holding my hands out to the golden blossom.
This is the only worship at which I do not falter,
Where light is my prayer, and the sky is my altar.