The Salt Circle

By Mariam Gergis (Shayṭānata, شيطانة) 

With deliberate steps I walk the perimeter,

Salt streaming from my closed fist

Like seeds for an invisible garden,

Marking the boundary between worlds.

Here: where ordinary time stops.

Here: where intention becomes reality.

Here: where I am both priest and congregation,

Both question and answer.

The white crystals catch moonlight,

Each grain a small commitment

To the belief that we can create

Pockets of power in powerless times.

Inside this circle, I am sovereign.

Inside this circle, magic is practical

As bread rising, as blood flowing,

As the earth turning toward spring.

When morning comes I’ll sweep it up,

Return the salt to kitchen shelf,

But tonight it holds the space

Between who I am and who I’m becoming.

The circle is drawn.

The circle is cast.

The circle holds

What the heart asks.