By Frost's clear crystal night
Sister Moon shows Her face
A sometimes cold hard light
Mother Sun's reflected grace
Casts Her shimmer to the ground
Lights the naked body there alone
Watched by those gathered around
That ancient sacred altar stone
Shadow moves across the night
Casts a line across a throat
Giving consent to that rite
The ritual chanted loud by rote
As blade slides true and keen
Giving Earth the food of life
And the drama of the final scene
Moonlight gleams on bloodied knife
Sister moon hides her face
From the body borne away
From that sacred place
To an honourable burial day
In time Mother Earth
Respected and fed
Will urge rebirth
In every single planted bed
Bestowing food another year
Come Winter's ending nights
And Spring draws ever near
Brings again the need for Rites
