Imbolctide ebbing and other notes…

So my thirst for poetry has ebbed. I am still seeking after my spiritual renewal.

I recently picked up a copy of the 2008 Llywellen’s Magickal Almanac, the most recent issue of Pangaia, and Evolutionary Witchcraft by T. Thorn Coyle. (Good book, btw…)

I also made some scheduling requests at work so that I can attend a local open moon Circle.

I am swimming against the currents of my everyday life, trying not to get dragged down in the undertow of the everyday. I am trying to restore some sort of daily practice to my life, and still trying to parse out how to honor the Gods and Goddesses of my heart. Simple prayer works, of course, but I am realizing I need ritual.

It is not enough for me to know the Gods are real, and a part of all creation. I need to experience it more … fully. I am realizing too, that I have held back from ritual, and magick, for the last few years. Ritual and Magick and Faith are, of course, wonderful. But I also need community, or fellowship. Thus my intention to attend the local Open Circles.

Just a few notes on the road tonight…



A prayer to Aphrodite

Sweet Seaborn Lady Arising
I call upon you, oh Laughter Loving Queen
In this season where we turn our thoughts to Love and Loving
I call upon you, oh Mother of the Loves,
Golden Goddess of Peace hear me.

I ask that You bless the leaders of my Nation,
oh Protectoress of the homelands,
Grant them wisdom, and loving hearts.
Let them see the soldiers of our country
as Children, and Spouses, and Parents.
Let each of them shine in the minds and hearts of our leaders
Like stars in the heavens
Like the rare and treasured jewels they are to those that love them.
Let the illuminating light of love fill the minds eyes and hearts
of the Leaders and the People of my nation.
Of all nations.

Orphic Hymn to Aphrodite

from the Translation by Thomas Taylor at Theoi(dot)com

“To Aphrodite. Heavenly, illustrious, laughter-loving queen, sea-born, night-loving, of awful mien; crafty, from whom Necessity first came, producing, nightly, all-connecting dame. ‘Tis thine the world with harmony to join, for all things spring from thee, O power divine. The triple Fates are ruled by thy decree, and all productions yield alike to thee: whatever the heavens, encircling all, contain, earth fruit-producing, and the stormy main, thy sway confesses, and obeys thy nod, awful attendant of Dionysos. Goddess of marriage, charming to the sight, mother of the Loves, whom banquetings delight; source of Persuasion, secret, favouring queen, illustrious born, apparent and unseen; spousal Lukaina, and to men inclined, prolific, most-desired, life-giving, kind. Great sceptre-bearer of the Gods, ‘tis thine mortals in necessary bands to join; and every tribe of savage monsters dire in magic chains to bind through mad desire. Come, Cyprus-Born, and to my prayer incline, whether exalted in the heavens you shine, or pleased in odorous Syria to preside, or over the Egyptian plains thy care to guide, fashioned of gold; and near its sacred flood, fertile and famed, to fix thy blest abode; or if rejoicing in the azure shores, near where the sea with foaming billows roars, the circling choirs of mortals thy delight, or beauteous Nymphai with eyes cerulean bright, pleased by the sandy banks renowned of old, to drive thy rapid two-yoked car of gold; or if in Kypros thy famed mother fair, where Nymphai unmarried praise thee every year, the loveliest Nymphai, who in the chorus join, Adonis pure to sing, and thee divine. Come, all-attractive, to my prayer inclined, for thee I call, with holy, reverent mind.”

More Poetry for Imbolctide

So I have only been able to find a few of my poetry books, tucked away in vairous boxes… although I know more lay hiding somewhere in the house or garage.

So I give two poems today one of my own and one from the excellent, if sadly out of print, Her Words: An Anthology of Poetry about The Great Goddess edited by Burleigh Muten.

The Ancient Ones
(c) Patricia Reis

From the begining,
We have been with you.
We are the ancient ones
And we remember.

We remember the time when there was only love,
The time when all breathing was one.
We remember the seed of your being
Planted in the belly of the vast black night.
We remember the red cave of deep slumber,
The time of forgetting,
The sound of your breath,
The pulse of your heart.
We remember the force
Of your longing for life,
The cries of your birth
Bringing you forth.
We are the ancient ones
And we have waited
………………………………….and watched.

You say that you cannot remember that time
That you have no memory of us.
You say that you cannot hear our voices
That our touch no longer moves you.
You say there can be no return
That something has been lost,
That there is only

We say the time of waiting is over.
We say the silence has been broken.
We say there can be no fogetting now.
We say

We are the bones of your grandmother’s grandmothers.
We have returned now
We say you cannot forget us now
We say we are with you
And you are us.

Note: In the poem as published there were no periods or dots preceding the off-set words, that is just my attempt to work with Blogger’s word processing.

Next is a poem of my own. I do not remember which of my growing pains or difficulties prompted it, but I’d like to think that I have learned some things and know a little better now…


Mother, Light
(C) Geoffrey Stewart

Late at Night
I sit listening to Ancient Gospel Blues records on the radio
Stewing in my own anger and resentment
My mind awash with bitter Doom filled thoughts
Barely able to stir myself to light the candle.

Trying to Light my way back to Ballance
Trying to Light my way back to the Center
Mother, Light my way back home.

The candle’s light flickers in the Mirror of my Contemplation
I find myself scrying visions of my Past
Learning from and laughing at my younger self
Finding myself, hoping I will know better next time
Next lifetime, heck I’d settle for
Knowing better next week.

Trying to Light my way back to ballance
Trying to Light my way back to the center
Mother, Light my way back home.

Burning away the strangely serious pains of the Past
Imersing myself in the Cloudy and Cold waters of Renewal
Gasping for breath as I stuggle to surface from within myself
Barely able to stir myself to light the Candle.

Mother, Light my way back home.

An act of faith, and bravery.

So I was working at the theme park the other day, and as I went about my duties I saw a familly in one of the back corners of the public areas of the park, setting out a blanket on the ground. It took me a moment to realize that this was a familly of Muslims, preparing for prayer.

The more I thought about it that day, the more I realized that given the current circumstances in the world this was not only an act of faith and devotion, but an act of some bravery. To be willing to face the possibility of odd stares, or worse, and to still carry forward with the daily prayers required by Islam.

I am reminded of the many times back in Anchorage where I would encourage folks to wear their Pentacles openly. I was also reminded of my own hesitancy to do so since moving to Florida.

As a U.S. citizen, I am guaranteed the Freedom of Religion within the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. As a realist I know that one only has (and will continue to have) the Rights that one is willing to excercise, and defend.

Commen sense, of course, also tells me that there will be times where wearing my Pentacle is either not appropriate (often related to work situations) or, sadly, even safe. I think, though, that I shall wear it when reasonable and safe to do so, with pride. I may face difficulties and bad situations, but I think Their Perfect Love and Perfect Trust, is worth the occasional inconvenience.

I also think I will continue to encourage others to wear their Pents, and Awens, and Hammers, and what-have-you, with pride.

Words of Wisdom from Dianne Sylvan

~from Dianne Sylvan at Dancing Down The Moon~

Witch, Please.

Here are the things I don’t care about:

I don’t care what the name of your religion is.
I don’t care what the names of your gods are.
I don’t care how old your religion is.
I don’t care if your great-great-whatever grandmother passed down your famtrad Book of Shadows under the watchful eye of the Inquisition.
I don’t care if an entire civilization worshipped your Goddess for ten thousand years.
I don’t care if you made Her up based on manga or Tolkien or a dream you had.
I don’t care where you place your altar.
I don’t care which direction you call Earth.
I don’t care how psychic you are.
I don’t care if you’re smarter than me.
I don’t care why you eat meat, or don’t.
I don’t care how many shields you think you need.
I don’t care how your childhood trauma made you a powerful magickian.
I don’t care if you spell “magic” with a k.
I don’t care if you were an Atlantean Magus in your last life.
I don’t care if you’re brand-spanking new.I don’t care how much you hate Christians.
I don’t care how many degrees you have.I don’t care if people call you “Lady” or “Lord.”
I don’t care if you’re King of all Londinium and wear a shiny hat.
I don’t care if you can read minds or light candles with your breath.
I don’t care how the world owes you a living.
I don’t care if you’ve been studying the Craft for thirty years or thirty minutes.
I don’t care what your totem animal is, especially if it’s a wolf, raven, or unicorn.
I don’t care if you can trace your lineage back to Gardner.
I don’t care if you think I’m a moron, fraud, or basket case.
I don’t care how many books you’ve read.
I don’t care how much or how little money you have.

What do I care about?

I care that your religion has made you a kinder, more compassionate person.
I care that you can hold down a job.
I care that you’re growing past whatever happened to you as a child or last year.
I care that your gods help you become stronger without coddling you.
I care that you are willing and able to adapt and change as your life does.
I care that you care about the Earth.
I care that you care about someone and something outside yourself.
I care that you practice your religion with devotion and reverence.
I care that you respect others’ paths.
I care that you never stop learning.
I care that you can conduct adult relationships with respect and understanding.
I care that you get how hilarious life is.
I care that you know when to ask for help.
I care that you realize that someone will always be smarter, more powerful, and more together than you.
I care that you realize it doesn’t matter, because tomorrow you’ll be smarter, more powerful, and more together than you were yesterday.
I care that you have reasons for everything you do, even if those reasons are purely intuitive.
I care that you can admit when you’re wrong.
I care that you know you’re both a tiny speck in a vast universe and a rare, precious jewel in the darkened sky.
I care that you’re making a difference.
I care that you know when to speak and when to shut the hell up.
I care that you are seeking a relationship with Deity and with Nature.
I care that you are healthy.
I care that you’re contributing to your family and community.
I care that your capacity for love and joy increase with every passing year.
I care that you believe in yourself.
I care that you’re doing the best you can.

©2008 by Dianne Sylvan

Dianne also has some good commentary on this piece. Heck everything she writes is, in my opinion, good. Well written and well thought out. Seriously, check out Dianne’s blog!

New Moon 2~7~2008

In place of casting the Circle, a Blessing…

“In this night, and in this hour,
With this head, and heart, and voice of mine,
In this place, I call upon magicks power,
To Reawaken and Rekindle the spark Divine,
In each cell and atom of this now holy place.”

Then the invokation…

“I call Einodian Hecate,
Lovely dame, of earthly, watery, and celestial fame,
Sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed,
Pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade;
Persian, unconquerable huntress hail!
The world’s key-bearer never doomed to fail;
on the rough rock to wander thee delights,
Leader and nurse be present to our rites;
Propitious grant our just desires success,
Accept our homage, and the incense bless.”

Lit the insence, toasted the Goddess, and poured a Libation.


Hecate is at once the Thousand Faced Night,
And the Torch Bearer, Guardian and Giude through the Wilderness…


I am experimenting with blessing a place, trying to reawaken or rekindle the inherint divinity of a place rather than casting Circle. A Circle is one way of working magick and creating sacred space, but there are others.

I like to think that by not limiting the blessing or holyness with a boundary that, maybe, eventually, that rekindling of holyness will spread like a wildfire, or like water spilled in a Libation. Washing over every atom and cell of creation, touching and transforming the world.

Hmmm… I’ve got a LOT of blessing to do!