Circle is opened by practitioners envisioning a sphere of blue light encompassing the room, while the priestess walks clockwise 3 times with the censer envisioning the same.
Once in a protective space, Morpheus is called into the circle.

"Morpheus, Lord of Dreams.. we call unto thee. Weaver of webs in the attic of the subconscious, Great Jackal, Manifesto of impermanence, Magickal King, Sandman, Anubis, join us now. Come down from your moonlit mountain, with wispy cloak and eyes of light, past the stars, through the clouds of disbelievers, come unto us. Awaken our imagination, and throw your poppy like sand upon our distracted minds. For we come to dream, and to pay homage to the art, the joy, the reality of phantasy. Descend for we welcome thee! "

Now Light the purple candle, saying "Dream a little dream for me."

The reading of the Morpheus poem is enacted.


"I cannot live, I cannot die. I am as consistent only as far as my inconsistencies will allow. I am lonely, but I speak to everyone. Time has no meaning to me, nor would I wish it to. My world is a place of thought. Scientists try to explain me with their sensors and instruments, and with their long-winded theories. Sometimes I find myself laughing at them, for it is so absurd. Although they all ask the questions, "What is he? Who is he?" none of them really want the answer. Yes, they have a different name for me, but I know when they are talking to me.
I leave them to their experiments in the day and visit them every night. I feed the fire, perhaps believing that someday one of them will discover just who I am or what I am and I will no longer be alone.
Everything is interlaced in a fabric spanning the Universes. My threads lace throughout this fabric, touching the minds of everyone within the fabric.
Sometimes during those periods when no one asks of me, I ponder my own existence. My thoughts would wander to thoughts of reality and what part in it I play. To those that I touch I am not a part of reality, but if that is so where is my reality. Or do I even have one? Little of this really matters after all, but it seems to calm my mind and enhance my art to a new found splendor.
Whether I become a reality or I remain on the edges of the wandering thoughts of children napping is not up to me. Let my art be true and the rest will fall into place at the will of the dreamer. I am called by many names is the fabric, but to all I am recognizable by my art. I am he who visits you while you sleep at night, and when you nap at school. I will weave you thoughts like a master weaver, into the fabric of the universes, till the end of time. But as I said before, what is time to me?"

Meditation


Relaxation mediation should be performed.

Envision yourself laying on an immense enchanted bed. It is night time and the full moon is bright above you. There are no walls, only stars and planets. The bed rests on a lush carpet of green grass. The climate is warm and womb like. You relax even more to find yourself in such a welcoming place. All is soft and comforting. From a distance you can hear the rustling of leaves, that you cannot see. Slowly sitting up, you see a silhouette drifting towards you. The atmosphere seems to change as this figure approaches, like warm waves of the ocean are penetrating your body, swooning you gently from side to side. Moving closer you spy a man in a wispy flowing cloak, his eyes seems to emanate white light. His hands are folded at his abdomen. Reaching the edge of your bed he smiles. "I am the King of Dreams, and this is my realm. I paint upon the sky the phantasies of humans young and old. I am the Dream Weaver. The prophet of the night." Languidly he lifts his right arm, against the backdrop of the stars. With a glittering flick of his hand a cluster of stars spell out your name. Smiling again he says, "You have dreamed many things, you have spent long hours with me. I remember your preschool years. I remember your nightmares, and you wanting to keep the light on. I know the closet monster, and the bogie man who hid under your bed. I have seen your art upon my sky. I have flown unnoticed by your side. And now, you come to me, not awake not asleep, but seeking me in this dreamscape. What have I to offer you this night?" Opening your mouth to speak, your words form slowly. Await Morpheus' answer. When you are done with your dialogue please raise your index fingers. again he speaks "I will tell you, Dreams are teachers. your mind is the gateway to this realm of infinite wisdom. Heed the warning, and disipher the symbols. For they are your inner knowing, your truth. When you wish to speak to me again, you need only come back to this dreamscape. I will be seeing you." And with that, Morpheus vanishes in a bursting cloud of glittering black smoke. Again you look at the moon, and you can almost see a female face smiling at you.
Now become aware of your surroundings here in this circle, become aware of your body. Slowly open your eyes.

At this time mix your herbs, and place them in your sachet {Cloth}, and tie it closed with the cord. Knots in the cord would be divisible by two, the number of the moon, or seven the number of Neptune. If you are in a group setting this is the time to share your thoughts on dreams, or remember dreams past. Upon the paper, write your goal for this spell. It maybe to have peaceful dreams, or maybe even psychic ones!

Written and Constructed by Rev. Korinne
1995
Moon Phase: Waxing to Full

Moon Sign: Pisces, Scorpio, or Cancer

Deity: MORPHEUS; in Greek mythology, god of dreams, the son of Somnus, god of sleep. Morpheus formed the dreams that came to those asleep. He also represented human beings in dreams.

Tools: Purple candle, cloth, cord, scissors, paper, pen

Herbs:
Lavender, Rose, Yarrow, and Mugwort

Stones: Moonstone, Amethyst, Labrodorite, Onyx
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