Mighty stag and a rustling through trees, Cloven hooves, thundering crash to my knees. Majesty on high, the horned one's might, Baying of his wolves all through the night. Creatures from all around gather to his song, On a grassy forest floor around him we belong. Swaying to and fro, the music plays its tune, Over the watchful gaze of the luminous full moon. We set our altar east with water, salt and oil, White light surrounding, directing our circle we toil. Around we go twice with censer and water, Surrounding protection for ever son and daughter. Pipes of Pan, A beautiful song, nature's calling, To every beast, flying, swimming and crawling. Give voice to the wounded woods, bleeding and lost, Stand together invoking protection at all cost. Power to the horned one, masculine energy empowered, Guardian of all nature, to a sick land soured. Rise up together and feel the energies heal the land, Nature is our holy, sacred place we must make a stand. Let the fire burn high, let the incantation be set, Of all gather around, in song and dance and merry met. In perfect love and trust, we are here in primal decree, To honour the horned God and give power, so mote it be. 13-12-2014 Andy Wilden