Before the sun clears the sill there is a grey and open moment when the day has not yet decided what it will bring. A mark made then is a mark pressed into soft clay, and the world sets hard around it.
This sigil reaches toward the fat years, seasons of surplus that follow one upon another like grain heaped upon grain. To draw it is to write your intention into the first light and let the day itself become the vessel by which plenty takes root and returns, harvest after harvest.
The Working
- Rise before dawn and lay a clean sheet of paper where the first light will reach it.
- Cast a slow ring of salt around the paper, marking the boundary of your asking and keeping the working pure.
- With a single unbroken line, draw your sign of plenty: a brimming vessel, a heaped measure, or a mark of your own devising that means abundance to you and no one else.
- As the light touches the sill, kindle a small flame and set the paper alight, letting it burn down into a waiting bowl within the ring.
- Loose a thread of incense to rise with the smoke, and speak the words that send the mark out into the day.
- When all has cooled, gather the ash and salt together and scatter them upon the wind, across your land or along your path.
The Incantation
First light, take what I have drawn,
carry it forward, year to year.
Let the lean seasons all be gone,
let the fat years gather here.
Grain on grain and full to full,
plenty answer as I call.
Speak nothing of the mark once it is ash, and let the fullness come as the sun comes, quietly, and without being watched.