Softly settling

dark spiral

There is a place within,
Where faded thoughts
Of loves lost and pain gained
Rest in quiet settling.

And there are times when
I tumble forward into this solemn space,
Dropped and open,
Free falling into its inky blackness.

I open my arms and legs wide and
Slowly swirl like a five-pointed pentagram,
Drifting softly down through the mists of my memory.

And there I find
Repose in the deep love and longing,
Solace where my soul rests,
And comfort there
in the depths of my silence.

Image source: Fractal texture dark web abstract nether world abyss blue grey light wallpaper

 

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Mabon balance meditation

Fall Equinox

The Autumnal Equinox is a time of liminal space. Where I live in Canada, it is the end of a time when the light is strong and the air is warm and the beginning of a time when darkness begins to take hold and the air becomes colder.

Those of us who follow an earth-based spiritual practice enjoy that space and often seek it out.  We may enjoy standing on the edges of things because that is where magic happens.  We may revel in the in-between spaces; the transitional times; the liminal times–and it is no wonder that many of us love Autumn.

The Autumnal Equinox is also a time of high energy and for some of us there may be a feeling of restlessness in the air, a desire to make changes in our lives, to begin anew.

Here is a simple meditation that may help you become more comfortable standing on the edge and can help you bring more balance into your life.

Stand up and take several deep breaths. What do you feel in the energy that is circulating about you? Is it calm and peaceful or is it swirling around?  Do you feel comfortable in this energy or does it need some sorting?

Lift up one of your feet, or if that is not possible, lean a little forward until you are just slightly off balance.  Feel the instability, but try not to fear it. If you need to tap your foot on the ground, do so briefly. Stay in tune with the energy.  How is it affecting you?

Now, bring to mind something in your life that feels off kilter. Something that you’d like to change and gain some control over. Is it something affecting your physical body? Perhaps your food choices are out of wack or you need to bring more physical activity into your life.  Are you in a relationship that may be out of balance?  Do you need to spend more time in quiet meditation or other forms of self care?  Really think about it.  How is this imbalance affecting you? What are the feelings it brings to mind?  Annoyance? Anxiousness?  Fear?  Lack of control?

Now, place your foot solidly back on the ground and stand straight. With your eyes still closed, feel the loving pull of mother earth’s gravity below you and imagine what you can do to bring more balance to this area or this thing. What are some concrete actions you can take to add more balance? How can you accomplish this? Is it possible to make a plan? Do you need the help of others?  If so, how can you ask them for help?

Now take several deep breaths. Open your eyes and read this prayer:

As I stand on the edge
Of the dark and the light
I feel balanced and strong
I will set myself right.

I gaze out I gaze in
I take time to begin
To find truth in the spaces
That lie deep within.

I feel Mother Earth’s love
And accept her embrace
Love of gravity grounds me
And keeps me in place.

When you are done, take some time to journal or make of list of next steps.

Blessings of Balance to you!

Image source: Mabon greeting card by EarthStarStudios on Etsy.com.

For Artemis

The Archer

I noticed that your hand was trembling
last night when I held it in circle.
And it seemed to me
that you were wound as tense and tightly
as a bow string.

I knew then
that you were working so hard to
hold and care for all of our energy
and your own.

And I thank you for that.

But you are not a bow,
you are a beautiful archer
who must use that energy
to shoot the arrows of your divinity
into the sky and let them
fall where they must land.

 

Image: The Archer card from the Wildwood Tarot.

Eclipsing

Milkweed pod

The milkweed pod splits in my hands.
And silky white seed tails scatter through my fingers and across the meadow.
Floating.
I watch as they are caught by a gust
and carried above the quivering yellow goldenrod spires,
Around the dusty green seeded nettles,
And over the chokecherry bushes along the Jock River’s edge,
Branches drooping, heavy with purple berries.

Yes, I have been eating them.
For six or seven weeks now,
haven’t got sick once.
Probably keep us both alive. 

Did the needle on the album skip?
What is that slightly off-center sense of second guessing?
What is that high-pitched buzz?
Is it the menacing whine of the wasps that hover around the white sweet clover
Like tiny little drones that threaten the innocent white blossoms?
Is it the incessant sound of the bluebottle flies
Swirling stupidly and endlessly around a discarded blue poopbag
plopped on the ground at the edge of the path?
Or is it the harmonic hum of suburban air conditioners in the distance
that makes me feel that the roots of my upper back molars are pushing up through my cheekbones?

There is a retrograde.
And an eclipse is coming.
In Leo, no less . . .
(the ego–
dear gods that ego–
is so hot; it shines down on me,
burning my skin
and makes me want to flatten myself face down on the dry hard dirt path of this long hot summer.)

And everything is veering slightly off center again.
My neurons are clicking, but
There is no steady beat to hold on to.
The edges of my thoughts are sharp
and the shrill sound behind my eardrums is piercing.

What is normal?
What is safe and sound and will anchor me to the ground?
What is that tension circling my heart,
and that sinking feeling in my stomach?
What is that steady strident ache behind my eyes?

Is it the eclipse effect?
Am I stationed between the silent dark black moon
and the massive burning summer sun,
pressed from both sides as the dark and the light slowly advance
towards me and
through me and
then swirl together as the planet Mercury dives into retrograde?

I turn my face up to the sky.
I try to look away but I cannot help but watch the black moon move across the face of the blinding sun.

The dark and the light merge.

And in that split second everything changes.
My electrifying ego lets me go
and I am able to escape.
And ride with the tiny wisps of the milkweed seeds
Down the steep river bank and into the cool flowing river.

Milkweed pod image source: unknown

A cry for Gwyl Awst: The harvest time has come

Demeter by InertiaK

Children of the Star Goddess
We are the ones we have been waiting for.
The heated days of August are upon us
and though much of the earth is dry and parched,
It is time to reap the seeds that we have sown.

I call on you my sacred sisters and my magical brothers;
It is time to stand tall in the ripe and rippling wheat fields
and gaze into the infinite blue sky above.
It is time to absorb the warm caress of sun on your skin
and gather strength from the solid earth beneath your feet.

And when you gasp at the breeze’s kiss
and thrill to the currents of air that flow through your waving hair,
It is time to harness the passion in your heart
and call upon the spirits of your allies.

I call on you to go deep within and heal your spirit.
I beg you to open your heart.
Face north and harness the earth’s mighty power;
Face east and capture the wail of the raging winds;
Face south and seize the heat of the core and the passion of the sun.
Face west and catch the deep dark depths of the ocean’s waters.
Face center and manifest the magic and infinite spark of spirit.

And when you have gathered the elements to you
Stand strong with us all in the center of the Axis Mundi–the tree of life.
Together we will channel the power from our mother earth below.
Together we will swirl our spirals of energy to harness the vitality of the Stars above.
And we will sing in harmony as that divine magic surges up and through us
and showers down and upon us.

Sharpen your scythes
and ride your wagons into the fields my darling ones.

The harvest time has come.

Image credit: Demeter, source unknown.

 

 

 

Crone Mother at Calan Mai

Ode to LiminalityNow Summer is calling her.
And she is leaning into that liminal space.
Not spinning, not weaving, not wondering.
Standing sentient, on this holy day.

She stares at the limitless light ahead.
Squinting her sensitive winter eyes.
Pulling her cloak more tightly around her.

She reluctantly raises her tiny foot to take a step forward,
Not sure if she wants to let go of the comforting depths of winter.
Not ready to walk through the fire
before she leaps into the dizzying height and heat of summer.
She feels helpless; heavy and weak.
Her bones crack; her joints creak; her muscles ache.
She stands old and alone.

And so, taking a deep breath,
She pauses to seek the blessing of her Gods and ancestors.
She whispers a prayer for increased fertility and good health for her land and her tribe.
She blesses and purifies herself.

And she allows herself to consider the possibilities that still lie ahead.

She awkwardly kneels down and begins to rub two oak branches together
until the sparks fly
and catch in the kindling of nine sacred woods.
Her breath feeds the flame;
Her fire begins to burn.
And she can feel the music play within her witch’s soul.

She struggles to stand, and looking ahead
She can see the space between the dark and the light.
No,
She IS the space between the dark and the light.

She steps cautiously and moves forward through the flames.
Remembering a time when her muscles were strong and lean
And she raced faster and faster,
Chasing her seed.
Swishing through the dry grasses — a greyhound chasing a hare;
Slipping and sailing through the waters — an otter chasing a fish;
Soaring boundless though the air — a hawk chasing a sparrow.

She is riding the edges of her dreams and goals;
She is navigating the world between normal and no man’s land.
And so she steps into the light
Her mind pregnant with possibilities.

Inspired by: http://paganbloggers.com/breathofninemaidens/blog/2017/05/01/beltane-portal-of-transformation/

Image source: http://www.durgabernhard.com/item.php?type=poster&id=37

Six crows swirling

Six Crows Swirling

Six crows swirling. Seven songs.
The meaning is in the movement.
Eight brings me to the double balance.
And I pause to receive the message.

The crows swoop to check a possible treasure on the pavement.
They touch down quickly, in crowded curiosity,
Hopping and cawing, poking and pecking,
Their curiosity overcomes caution during this one instant in time.

In my mind I sense the Feri,
In my bones I feel the flow.

And then,
They rise up quickly, a swirl of black wings and madness,
Bringing me a message of movement and mayhem.
I hear their caw, caw, cawing fade into the distance,
Leaving me to scan my brain for clues to further meaning.