The light is here, but the darkness is as well, and now the great wheel turns. We walk to the holy springs and wash our wounds. Herbs in the woods and meadows have drunk from the energies of the universe and drawn rich growth from all existence. We pick the herbs at night, on our guard against the glowworms’ bite. We read omens. We tuck flowers under our pillows. Our brown calves are wet with cuckoo spit, while the bonfires burn down. It is the longest day, the magic’s night. Everything has opened and yielded. A rattling door onto the darkness.
