The dawn began to break, casting soft light through the room. Within and without it was quiet, for the unknowing people had not risen. In this, the hour before the dawn, all planes of existence were suspended between the Mother’s night and the Father’s light. They existed in disaccord and harmony, passionate sounds and utter silence. Magick danced through the air, mixing with the scents of the daffodils, tulips and hyacinths.
He lit the candles, one by one, each with single-minded devotion. As each little flame came into being, he whispered a blessing to it,
“Blessed be this little flame, may it bring forth happiness this Beltane.”
Each candle was so blessed, with a different quality given to it. Prosperity, due challenge, fortitude, generosity and kindness were among the many. All the way around the room, deasil as the sun goes, he gave life to each candle, with the exception of four special candles, one within each corner. When he had finished, he stood in the center a moment, embracing the positive energy within, allowing the excitement and rightness to rush through his body.
When he opened his eyes, she stood in the doorway, the offering bowl in her hands, a small smile playing across her lips. Within the bowl was rich soil tilled from the earth, a representation of fertility. He reached for the oak rod that lay on the bed, which he had found the evening before in the woods. He had spent several hours carving it roughly into the shape of a phallus, but he was no artist, and it looked pathetically lopsided. When he had sheepishly presented his work, she had only laughed and said that the gods do not care that it does not look right; they only care about his intent behind carving it.
Hand in hand, they walked together across the little room to the altar, all of seven steps. As one, they placed the bowl and rod on the altar, and each took up the taper candles to light the last four.
She began with the silver candle in the East corner, and as she lit it, she lifted her voice to the gods, calling their attention to the rite that was about to be performed,
“Guardians of the East, I call upon you to watch over this Beltane rite. Powers of knowledge and wisdom, guided by Air, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.”
He continued the chant, facing the South as he lit the orange candle,
“Guardians of the South, I call upon you to watch over this Beltane rite. Powers of energy and will, guided by Fire, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.”
As he spoke, she had moved, easily as air, to the West corner. She lit the blue candle,
“Guardians of the West, I call upon you to watch over the rites of this Beltane rite. Powers of passion and emotion, guided by Water, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.”
He had drifted to the North corner, as steady as a strong flame. The gold candle leapt to life,
“Guardians of the North, I call upon you to watch over the rites of this Beltane rite. Powers of endurance and strength, guided by Earth, we ask that you keep watch over us tonight. Let all who enter the circle under your guidance do so in perfect love and perfect trust.”
The circle was cast, and nothing impure would enter as long as the circle held. Only the two were within. Leaving the tapers next to the last candles lit, they both moved to the foot of the bed, facing each other. For a heartbeat, they were still, but then they smiled, and began their Beltane ritual with the drawing in of positive energy and thought.
He reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling her close by it. She tingled as he ran his hands along her skin underneath, her body warming to his familiar touch. He stroked her stomach and sides leisurely, as if content to do nothing else for the day, and said softly, just for the two of them and the gods they had called to witness their rite,
“Beltane! I dance with delight on this night. All senses freeing, I dance for being,” he began to slide her shirt up over her head, his hands moving over her breasts before tossing the cloth away, “The flower and the flame of love’s own rite shall blossom. Sun shall embrace Earth.” He squeezed her breasts, lowering his head to suckle each nipple in turn, pulling gently on the little nubs with teeth and lips. She moaned, her head lulling back as she pulled his shirt slowly up his back, speaking her part, invoking the Goddess with the same words,
“Beltane! I dance with delight on this night.”
He slid down her body to pull the skirt down her legs, leaving her naked. He kissed his way back up her legs, his fingers rubbing lightly between her legs, making her words breathless as she continued,
“All senses freeing, I dance for being. The flower and the flame of love’s own rite shall blossom. Sun shall embrace Earth!” She gasped as he rubbed her just right. He tormented her for a moment, feeling how she trembled and listened to her groans, before finally pushing her gently to the bed. She landed with a boneless bounce and reached for his pants, pulling them easily over his erection, running her hands down his thighs and calves, chasing the last of their clothes away.
He scooted her back, crawling on top, feeling her body against his. They reveled in the feel of their bodies pressed close, melded lips and limbs and essences together. Though their God and Goddess representations were on the altar, they embodied them, became the All within flesh human enough.
She said against his lips, between kisses, “I am woman, strong to conceive and to create, to give birth and to tend. As I am daughter of the Goddess, and blessed by the God, may I conceive this child.”
Her womb was as the fertile soil, ready for the joy of sheltering and bringing forth new life. She was pregnant, not yet with a child, but with the creativity that defined her life, the Goddess’s power, that silver light that warmed her as much as his body.
He embodied the oak rod, his erection straining against her. The fire of his prowess consumed him, and he longed to prove his abilities to her, to pleasure them both, to sow the seeds that would begin the cycle again.
“I am man, and in my passion is beauty, in my warmth is life. As I am son of the Goddess, and blessed by the God, I offer my strength and vitality to conceiving this child.”
They merged, the golden God and the moon-gilded Goddess, as he slid inside her. They moaned, completely consumed in their bodies joining. And then the ritual words, and the meaning of everything outside, fell away. Already desperate, he thrust strong and sure into her; she wrapped her legs around his hips, writhing, raking her nails down his back, whispering her desires into his ear as he moved. Her commands made him harder, and as he obeyed, she found release, arcing up off the bed, a small scream piercing the air. He gave her no time to recover, and moved all the faster through her climax to reach his own. He came hard, slamming inside her one last time, letting the seed that would bring their wish pump into her.
When they had both spent themselves, she laughed a little, and he rose up on his forearms, still hard inside her. He brushed her hair from her face, smiling, happy and fulfilled beyond anything he had felt before. She slid her hands between their bodies and cradled her flat stomach, and both silently bent the abundant energy they had created to the blessing.