Lammas Moon

In sultry repose, Great Lady, do You lie, crowned with stars and silver
And let slip from Your glorious hand, this perfect glowing pearl

To slide across the silken skies, this royal cloak of velvet
You bless us all with golden morns and silent inky blackness

You bless the tiny makers and their golden liquid horde
You bless me while i lose myself to summer's celebrations

And shining down with flaming grace upon these jubilations
While wild spirits dance the ring, and drum themselves to madness

Your sacred flame it burns us all and turns us into ashes
While holy waters flowing forth reshape the year's great turning

Let hatreds turn to seeds of peace and thorn and vine entwine us
For harvest comes and soon we'll see the fruits of this year's sowing

                                                                                 - Chris Getz

Morning Prayer

If my soul is dried wood
Let the sun rise up to burn me
to glow with new light

If my soul is but sand
Let the sea rise up to wash me
so that I might be free in the waters of creation

If my soul is like wine
Let the Gods come forth and consume me
an intoxicant to the divine

                     - Chris Getz

When the Abyss sings out its siren song

Sweet harmonies of amber oblivion

I find an earthly tether in your words

When Temptation weaves madness through my mind

Calling softly with a lovers voice

Your touch keeps me firmly grounded in grace

When the need to cast off these royal robes

Becomes an infants cry within my soul

Your simple acts of love and kindness

Crown me once again

              - Chris Getz