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I think that a circle cast with water as water, a feather for air, a non-lit candle for fire, and salt for earth would be interesting. You can cast the circle with a wand, rather than an Athene, also. Just a thought.
Here's how I cast a ritual circle, if you do try to cast a circle:
Starting in the East, point you wand outward, and draw a circle with it, walking clockwise while saying:
I cast the circle round and round-
Shadow of the Moon upon the ground.
I cast the circle round about-
A world within; a world without.
Between the worlds a sacred field-
what lies within, now stands revealed.
by magi ck deep and mystery-
The circle is cast, so mote it be!
You should be facing the East once again. Point your wand to the east and say:
O Guardians of the Airy East,
attend and sanctify my feast!
At dawn of day, your winds blow free,
Hail and Welcome, blessed be!
Now face South, point your wand and say:
O Guardians of the Fiery South,
Plant your hot kisses upon my mouth!
By flames and lightning, burning free,
Hail and Welcome, blessed be!
Now point to the west, saying:
O Guardians of the Watery West,
Your sacrament defines my nest!
By rain and river, lake and sea,
Hail and Welcome, blessed be!
Now point to the north and say:
O Guardians of the Earthen North,
We summon, stir and call ye forth!
By buds and branch, by root and tree,
Hail and Welcome, blessed be!
Now stand in the center of the circle and call out:
O Guardians of the Quarters all,
Hearken ye unto my call!
Protect my circle through the night,
and lend your power unto my rite!
So mote it be!
Call the Goddess and God as thus, also in the center of the circle:
The Lady's Bransle:
For she will bring the buds in spring
And laugh among the flowers
In the Summer's heat, her kisses are sweet,
She sings in leafy bowers,
She cuts the cane and gathers the grain
When the fruits if fall surround Her
Her bones grow old in wintry cold,
She wraps her cloak around her!
The Lords Bransle:
O, He will call the leaves in fall,
To fly their colors brightly
When warmth is lost, He paints with frost
His silver touches lightly
He greets the day in the dance of the May
With ribbons wound about Him
We eat His corn and drink from His horn
We would not be without Him!
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