Orphic Rites of the Mystic

In the hour of the fading sun
 Old songs can be heard
 Over the moors in the ash and oak
 Where the spirits heed their words
 The lone hymns that were weaved and spun
 Before the age of fern
 Felt on the air by the hands of those
 Whose crying hearts still yearn
 Orphic rites of the mystic
 Communion with the Gods
 The heart is pulled in rapture
 By the currents of the ocean
 The fragrance of cedar passes
 By lantern lit devotion
 The pulse of the clamoring drum
 Mimic the flames growing faster
 As the spirits of night listen
 And the owls surrounding answer