I was born of the Sea

The Sea, she pleases me
Within her, I was born and am reborn again
Opened to the pulse and beating rhythm
Mating with the storm of a Sea god, vehement and vengeful
A protective embrace to spiral down around my salty skin
And I rode his currents and I bore the waves
I am born and reborn again
Hail! my Daughters, you who swirl and foam and crash
And I ride the tides and bare the Waves
I am whole, within the Sea
I was reborn and am born again.

 

~Líadan Rán~

Advertisements

Freyja’s Chosen

‘Tis savage, it is, the way you mortal men war among yourselves. Your lives are fleeting, in an instant created, and in an instant destroyed. You war and raid and praise in Our names, yet you know not the true faces of Us. We are not as your mortal minds conceive Us, and in your ignorance, you’ve built a fancy that your blood oaths and sacrifices keep us sated, keep us above you and benevolent.

We are all around, beneath the Mound, within it, and above it. We are neither benevolent nor malevolent. We are the Stars, the Sun and the Moon and the tides that bear down on the coasts of the Land you claim as yours. The Land you fight to conquer. We were here long before you, Mortals, and we shall be long here until the day of doom upon the world, and ever after Ragnarok takes us all into the Chaos.

But ’tis the ferocity…your ferocity in your battles that belies your honor, your heart, your need to believe. You worship Me, you worship my Maidens Valkyrie, as if honoring us on the field of battle will sublimate and separate you into a Clan you cannot possibly perceive.
Still I watch you call your Kith and raise your Swords and Shields, and still I do not turn away, because it is Love I see mortals live and die for; Love that forges hearts of steel and Spirits of iron; Love that gives me longing to invite you Warriors into my hall to rejoice your valor. Odin has his pick over Mine, but those I choose are those that hold Love above all else.

Mine own are Warriors who have not forgotten that it is Love they fight for, even in Death.
Because of this, I choose to praise your deeds as you praise those of the Gods. Because of Love, dear Warriors, I choose to open My Hall to your kind, calling you home to rest where you will meet your Loves left behind when the world dies to ash.

 

 

~Líadan Rán~

Transparency

I wandered until I was lost. Trodding sodden ground, clutching the blackness of obsidian destruction. A temporal fascination, overbearingly familiar, like déjà vu, surfaced from the cold dark waters of a buried consciousness, a buried light.
White was deathly, like pale fingers creeping in to paint splotches of scaled-down readiness across a canvas of nothingness.
The bleak of winter would comfort me now. In a world where spring is springing, where greens and blues decay under the whiteness of my sliding spirit. I am darkness in this light. This encompassing trend of rising to the occasion has been lost on me.
I feel as though the zigzag of humanity’s crumpling form is winding around me. I have learned this lesson before. I have learned to distrust. My weary ways have haunted me, have coalesced around this storm that swirls throughout my being. I am sick.
The grit and dew sparkle like dogmas cradled within the hierarchies of man. I have learned to hate and love in equal measure. I have tasted the waxen futility of this fight. This war on life. Control is today’s special. Beating the innocence out of the disciples of creation. My creation is eating me alive. Conquered and devoured. I can’t twist my view to the periphery of this room. My prison cell, I built it from the gifts I was given.
I wandered until I was lost, and now,
I’m not quite sure I ever want to be found.

Beltane Fire Festival.

Good Witches Homestead

To the pastoral Celtic people’s of Europe the changing pattern of the seasons was a matter of life and death, and marking these changes key moments in the life of the community. Beltane – “bright fire” – was one such marker celebrated in various forms across Ireland, Scotland and Man as the starting point of summer. A celebration of the time of light and growth to come, Beltane was associated with a variety of practices, from the display of fresh greenery to the baking of Beltane bannocks. Perhaps the most important element, however, was the lighting of Beltane fires on the first of May, which would recall the growing power of the sun and provide an opportunity to cleanse and renew the conditions of a community – both humans and their animals – that had spent the dark months indoors. In Scotland, the lighting of Beltane fires – round which…

View original post 606 more words

Lyreleafs & Cloud Readings

Spring has sprung here in Florida, and with temperatures ranging from the 70’s to the 80’s, it’s been perfect weather for cloud watching and wildcrafting with some of the beauties right here in my yard and garden.

With spring fever behind us and hot days ahead, I’ve grown more and more interested in weather lore and other folk lore isolated to Florida and the Southeast. I have checked out some books on Florida’s climate and general weather patterns, but I want the old folk’s lore of weather and cloud divination.

 

 

I want to learn about the clouds moving overhead, about what those movements mean for my home and garden, my place in the local Land, and about how to perceive outcomes of various garden-related happenings when divined.

I want the magical and mystical workings of rain and clouds and fog. I want to gain and use my knowledge and experience of the weather patterns and learn how to read them with the purpose of divining future energies of all things home and garden.

So what does one do when one is looking for some divine guidance in seeking out the appropriate information about a spiritual topic of interest?

Invite the Ancestors to tea, of course. And a little bit of Lyreleaf Sage goes a long way.

salvia_lyrata4

This sage (Salvia lyrata; other common names include wild sage and cancerweed/cancer root) grows wild in yards, meadows, roadsides ditches, culverts…you pick a spot, and these babies will root there. They’re hardy little herbaceous perennials and readily self-seed and spread like crazy in ideal conditions.

Which is good for me, because hey, if I can use it as an edible and a healer, I sure as hell will! And this little plant is wonderful as a calming tea at 10 o’clock at night, curled up with a good book. The fresh young leaves and blossoms can be used in salads, and have a very light and pleasant minty flavor.

While the Lyreleaf’s medicinal properties don’t pack as much of a punch as other species of salvias, Lyreleaf can be used as a carminative/laxative (a mild tea made for kiddo’s gassy tummy or constipation…hey, it happens), and for relief during cold and flu season. Lyreleaf sage also makes a relieving salve for cuts, sores (warts and zits and boils, oh my!) and minor wounds.

On the spiritual and magical side, sage is also a plant linked with divination, purification, protection, and psychic learning. I’ve come to connect sage’s otherworldly attributes to, well, the other-world. Ancestors can be invited when sage is burned.

Now, traditionally White sage, or Sacred sage (Salvia apiana), is the sage of choice for burning and smudging, but I’ve found that the edible sages work well for these purposes, too. So I decided to harvest and dry my Florida Lyreleaf for tea, as well as a bundle for smudging/incense.

Then we’ll see what we see.

I haven’t used this particular sage in an infusion or for spiritual purposes yet, but am anxious to have it dry so I can get down to business.

IMG_20160401_222457

Until then, I’ll keep reading my library books on weather and atmospheric phenomenon, and offer these lovely tidbits on my new friend, Lyreleaf sage:

 

 

 

 

 

[Close-up of Lyreleaf blossom photo: ©Mark Hutchinson for http://www.fnps.org]