The Enchanter’s Art

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Enchantment is my art, a gift not undertaken lightly and bringing great transformation. I am the Alchemist in their many forms, I am the Philosopher’s Stone, I am Crucible within which profound transmutations are birthed. Enchantment is but only one perception of reality. This world does not truly exist as it is but because we will it to be shaped to our own desires and expectations. The Seeker knows this but must tread the lonely path for true experience of such mysteries.

The waking mind hides another universe, beneath which lies a vast landscape of forgotten knowledge, unrealised hopes and ancient beings. I am the Wisewoman, I am the Womb of the Great Mother. They wait and watch for a sign that we have remembrance of them. They are ancestral voices, ancestral Souls. Honoured and acknowledged are they who emerge from the past. We are of their flesh and blood, bound by timeless oaths.

Enchantment is my art, a gift not undertaken lightly and bringing great transformation.  I am the Priestess, I am the Psychopomp, I am the Mage. I weave tales spun from stardust and sacred sigils. The scribe’s instruments play their part, as do the dreams of the Universe. I am You and You are Me. Within such bonds are enchantments created. Look in the mirror, what can you see?

The waking mind hides another universe, beneath which lies a vast landscape of forgotten knowledge, unrealised hopes and ancient beings. I offer them a sign and they acknowledge my presence. They have remembrance of me. My present is their past. The enchanter becomes the enchanted. The dried rose bloom regains its life and beauty once more; the spirit is revivified to go forth once more. Red and White reunited, Completion and Perfection attained.

Enchantment is my art, a gift not undertaken lightly and bringing great transformation.

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