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In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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Grand Sabbat: Final Blessing

My brothers and sisters, our rite has come to an end.

Let us now each one of us go forth to do our own proper work in the world,

and may He the span of Whose Antlers reaches from horizon to horizon

 watch over you and see your homeward journey to its safe conclusion.

So now, until we meet once again

to join the eternal dance on the Sabbat-Field of the Buck,

in the name of the Horns and the wandering Moon,

I bid you: Hail and farewell.

Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.

 

 

As presented at the Grand Sabbat, Sweetwood Sanctuary, July 2013

© Steven W. Posch 2013

Photo: Paul B. Rucker

 

 

 

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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

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