Hail, Math, elder sorcerer,
Silver-haired in your knowledge,
Wise one who sees through illusion,
Fair one whose judgment is precise,
Being neither vengeful nor thoughtless,
But designed to teach the soul's lesson.

May you bless us with your wisdom,
Teaching us what it is we need to learn,
Even if that is hard and painful.
Hail, Mathonwy, Elder Sorceress,
Wise woman under the waning moon,
Gnarled fingers that coax healing,
Skilled hands that weave spells,
Skin like fine parchment on which is written
The lines of experience and insight.

See past our prevarications, wise elders!
See what it is that we have forgotten
Or that we have not yet learned,
And be ruthless with us.
Yet be also gentle,
For we are your future,
And the voices that will remember you
And carry your wisdom forward
Along the wheel of time.

​

From Pagan Book of Hours, paganbookofhours.org