I am the spinner of fate,
Through my fingers slips the thread of life,
To wind around the spindle of destiny,
A thin thread so easy to break,
A thread that holds all that is meant to be.

I am the weaver of the world,
In my loom grows the thread of all that has been,
And what is and will be,
With each pass of the shuttle another day is made,
And the past moves ever away from me.

I am the wielder of the shears of death,
I alone have the power to cut the threads,
That bind souls to the mortal life.
I alone can re-weave the spirit and create a new fate,
One incarnation to follow the other.

I am the Maiden who spins the thread,
I am the Mother who works at the loom,
And I am the Crone who cuts up old lives,
So the material can be used again.
I am all that was, is and will be.

I have many faces, but am but one,
I am as the light that refracts in a crystal,
I am young or old as I please,
I am both life and death,
I am the Goddess.