Listen to the words of the Horned God,
the Guardian of all things wild and free,
and Keeper of the Gates of Death,
whose Call all must answer:
I am the fire within your heart...
The yearning of your Soul.
I am the Hunter of Knowledge
and the Seeker of the Holy Quest;
I who stand in the darkness of light;
I am He whom you have called Death.
I the Consort and Mate of Her we adore,
call forth to thee.
Heed my call beloved ones,
come unto me and learn the secrets of death and peace.
I am the corn at harvest and the fruit on the trees.
I am He who leads you home.
Scourge and Flame, Blade and Blood
these are mine and gifts to thee.
Call unto me in the forest wild and on hilltop bare and seek me in the Darkness Bright.
I who have been called:
Pan, Herne, Osiris, and Hades, speak to thee in thy search.
Come dance and sing; come live and smile, for behold: this is my worship.
You are my children and I am thy Father.
On swift night wings
it is I who lay you at the Mother's feet to be reborn and to return again.
Thou who thinks to seek me, know that I am the untamed wind,
the fury of storm and passion in your Soul.
Seek me with pride and humility, but seek me best with love and strength.
For this is my path, and I love not the weak and fearful.
Hear my call on long Winter nights
and we shall stand together guarding Her Earth as She sleeps.
So Mote it Be
I am the radiant King of the Heavens,
flooding the Earth with warmth
and encouraging the hidden seed of creation to burst forth into manifestation.
I lift my shining spear to light the lives of all beings
and daily pour forth my gold upon the Earth,
putting to flight the powers of darkness."
"I am the master of the beasts, wild and free.
I run with the swift stag and soar as a sacred falcon against the shimmering sky.
The ancient woods and wild places emanate my powers,
and the birds of the air sing my sanctity."
"I am also the last harvest,
offering up grain and fruits beneath the sickle of time so that all may be nourished.
For without planting there can be no harvest;
without winter, no spring."
"Worship me as the thousand-named Sun of creation,
the spirit of the horned stag in the wild,
the running wolf, the endless harvest.
See in the yearly cycle of festivals
my birth, death, and rebirth--
and know that such is the destiny of all creation."
"I am the spark of life, the radiant Sun, the giver of peace and rest,
and I send my rays of blessings to warm the hearts and strengthen the minds of all."
--from Scott Cunningham's Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practicioner (p. 114-115)