|
In a dark thicket of winter branches, a crone sits
on a sacred mound of earth. She is spinning out a labyrinth,
a spell of life-cycles manifesting before her...
She is the mystery of karma, of cause and effect,
and how perfectly they balance. In the passage of
time, all things wax and wane and wax again...
Her owls see clearly through a dark time to that
time's beginning and its outcome. The crone of
justice shows where the thread began, and how to
follow it through the labyrinth you've created
by your own actions. You must not lose your nerve.
Accept your fate.
|