I do not call the thunder down, Nor bargain with the stars, I build my circle in the soil Where steady living are. A ring of stone, a banked low flame, Roots braided through the ground, No tyrant storm can breach the line Where hearth and heart are bound. Come closer now Lay iron fears aside. The fire remembers Who stands inside. This is the Circle of the Hearthroot Warmth against the night, Embers in the marrow, Holding fast the light. Stand within the boundary, Let the wild howl through While roots below and flame above Refuse to let you fall in two. I’ve walked the frost of dying fields, I’ve watched the rot take hold And still I plant, and still I tend, And still the green breaks cold. No glamour spun from faerie courts, No grave-wind in my breath, Just soil-stained hands and watchful eyes Between your pulse and death. Stay with me The ground is strong. The roots remember Where you belong. This is the Circle of the Hearthroot Warmth against the night, Embers in the marrow, Holding fast the light. Stand within the boundary, Let the wild howl through— While roots below and flame above Refuse to let you fall in two. In ash there’s promise, In bark there’s bone, In stone there’s patience Older than throne. And if you falter, If breath runs thin, The root will hold, And pull you in. This is the Circle of the Hearthroot Warmth against the night, Embers in the marrow, Holding fast the light. Stand within the boundary, Let the wild howl through While roots below and flame above Refuse to let you fall in two. This is the Circle of the Hearthroot Not the storm, not the bloom, But the quiet burning center In the edge of coming doom. Stand and breathe and stay your ground, Let the long night move, For flame above and root below Have nothing left to prove.
