Here at the beginning of the Year of Magic,
we gather with those of the same feather,
those who know the power of their dreams.
We sit in silence, facing the East, the birthplace
of all the tomorrows, building our visions,
the electric currents humming beneath
our feet, feeling the strength of fellowship
here on the wire at the start of this sacred day.
We read the shapes and colors of the clouds.
We listen to the breathing of the air and hear
the songs of nascent dreams chanting
in one another’s hearts. And when we are filled
with the knowing, we fly off, one by one,
to begin, to do the holy work, to sing the Yes,
to claim the fresh hours as our own.