Verse V: The Circle of One

Every soul dwells within a circle of one:
The smallest of circles, and the nearest,
Kept as a hearth is kept, tended as any circle is tended.
Through it the soul stands before the world,
Named and known, and set in balance with the many.

Yet the soul is not its circle.
As the riverbank holds the river but is not the water,
The circle surrounds the soul, that it may see where it stands:
Within the greater circles that enfold it,
Beside the fields and wells that sustain it.

When the soul is changed by what it lives,
It may let its circle change beside it,
Widening as it widens, turning as it turns;
Or keep its circle as a trellis,
Holding fast the paths and truths it cherishes
While it grows within.
The Mothers bless both;
For the vine and the trellis both belong to the garden.

But the Mothers favor the circle of one that reaches outward,
Seeking belonging in greater circles,
Laying its edge against others like hands joined at the fire.

In the dawn of a life, in its dusk, or in sickness,
The edges of the circle blur,
And the circles that enfold it may hold its fields and fire
in trust until it can tend again.
And when the breath fades away, its circle fades beside it,
As a hearth grows cold without its keeper;
Yet the circles it joined endure.

Thus the Mothers whisper:
Tend your circle, but do not mistake it for yourself;
Let it bend or hold, but let it join, for no circle is whole alone.