Alone, awesome, complete in Herself, the Goddess, She whose name cannot be spoken, floated in the outer darkness, before the beginning of all things. As She looked into the curved mirror of black space, She saw by Her own light Her radiant reflection, and fell in love with It. She drew It forth by the power that was in Her and made love to Herself, and called Her "Miria, the Wonderful." Their ecstasy burst forth in the single song of all that is, was, or ever shall be, and with the song came motion, waves that poured outward and became all the spheres and circles of the worlds. The Goddess became filled with love, swollen with love, and She gave birth to a rain of bright spirits, that filled the worlds and became all beings. But in that great movement, Miria was swept away, and as She moved out from the Goddess, She became more masculine. First She became the Blue God, the gentle, laughing God of love. The She became the Green one, vine-covered, rooted in the earth, the spirit of all growing things. At last She became the Horned God, the Hunter whose face is the ruddy sun, and yet dark as Death. But always desire draws Him back toward the Goddess, so that He circles Her eternally, seeking to return in love. All began in love; all seeks to return in love. Love is the law, the teacher of wisdom, and the great revealer of the mysteries. In love, the Horned God, changing form and changing face, ever seeks the Goddess. In this world, the searching and the seeking appear in the Wheel of the Year. She is the Great Mother, Who gives birth to Him as the Divine Child Sun at the Winter Solstice. In spring, He is the Sower and the Seed who grows with the growing light, green as the new shoots. She is the Initiatrix, Who teaches Him the Mysteries. He is the Young Bull; She is the Nymph, seductress. In summer, when light is longest, They meet in union, and the strength of Their passion sustains the world. But the Gods' face darkens as the sun grows weaker, until at last, when the grain is cut for harvest, He also sacrifices Himself to Self, that all may be nourished. She is the Reaper, the grave of earth to which all must return. Throughout the long nights and darkening days, He sleeps in Her Womb. In dreams, He is the Lord of Death, who rules the Land of Youth beyond the Gates of Night and Day. His dark tomb becomes the Womb of Rebirth, for at Midwinter She again gives birth to Him. The cycle ends and begins again, and the Wheel of the Year turns on and on.