Muse In the darkness, my mind moves through ancient memory - To the time of the Great Dances, done by women in the light of the moon; To the times when we KNEW who we were and would be; To the days of great work and the nights of great magick. And then I turn to the memories of things yet unborn - And I hear the songs of awakened women, come into their own, in strength and in beauty, as the Pendulum swings from the days of despair and we walk once again in the sun.