Gods of old, long have you waited,
seemingly forgotten and outgrown,
waiting with the patience born of wisdom
for your children to remember you
and to come to you with open hearts.
Awake, come, that day is here.
Once more, we pour libations.
Once more, the old songs rise.
Once more, the dance steps are traced.
Once more, your names are spoken.
Never more will the altars be unattended.
Never again the rime of waiting.
Your children look to you once again
and pledge to you their faith.
Ceisiwr Serith, A Book of Pagan Prayer