She changes everything she touches, and Everything she touches changes.
Eostre, streaming light, bright shining, pining for the warmth and joy of day.
Birds singing, bringing flowers, bowers of fern and leaf and bud that are your gown. I make sacrifice to you, of winter frigid, rigid thought, oughts perhaps not mine.
Of wine so white, bring shining dining on sacrifice, hare of Spring and sticky hands.
Hail, Eostre! To you, whose very name means Spring, bring offerings proferred to you.
Hail Eostre!
