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 amanate my powers,

and the birds of the air sing my sactity.

 

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 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 blessing to warm the hearts and strengthen the minds of all.