Her breath is still. The night is still.
The forces of life wait expectantly, and suddenly the light returns to flood the room priestess of the Moon cries out to the primordial mother, to whom she was bequeathed before the dawn of time.
The mother answers with the heartbeat of a thousand million lives and acknowledges her daughter, sister, self. They fuse and are one-was it ever any other way?
The cycle is complete, and the priestess of the Moon is assured.
The magic of her fingers will soothe where they lay, and the magic of her voice will heal where it is heard, the magic of her eyes will light the Earth, and all things will grow where she looks upon them.
The Way of the Goddess will continue, though to most her name is unknown.
As long as even one remembers will the knowledge proceed and the Earth be sustained.
