Ritual Spiral / Crow Ascension

One. One breath. One spark. The ritual coil tightens as the

crow shadow circles the crack between the worlds. Don Juan's voice splits the dark.

Rosemary water burning clean through my veins. As witches chant nonlinear

truths that bend the edges of the known.

Two steps, three streams, five winds, eight visions.

The Fibonacci spiral pulling me into the multiverse current. I become the fire,

I become the feather, I become the warrior dissolving into pure intention.

The known collapses, the unknown opens, I cross as a molten sphere into the next