Catechism for a Witch's Child

When they ask to see your gods

your book of prayers

show them lines

drawn delicately with veins

on the underside of a bird's wing

tell them you believe

in giant sycamores mottled

and stark against a winter sky

and in nights so frozen

stars crack open spilling

streams of molten ice to earth

and tell them how you drink

a holy wine of honeysuckle

on a warm spring day

and of the softness

of your mother who never taught you

death was life's reward

but who believed in the earth

and the sun

and a million, million light years

of being

J.L. Stanley

A Blessed Samhain, A Happy Halloween
A Blessed All Souls Day ...
whatever you celebrate....may it be a safe and peaceful time.

Namaste


Artwork credit: October Pumpkins and Worms - Ilfed

What do you believe in?

Let it go...

Hey hey …

Too many doubts
Too much fear
Too much danger
When society constructs
Our human nature oh
Live by the rules
Live by the laws
Live by commandments
Notions preconceived
Can lead to utter madness

Let it go
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
oh no
We are made
We are not born
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
No no
We are made
We are not born

Learn to convert
Learn to assert
Learn to abandon Ideologies and
Disciplines at random
Lay down the laws
Lay down the rules
Lay down commandments
Lift the sanctions
That restricts this woman's madness

Uniformity
Conventionality
Is the fate of our existence?
Keep it safely at a distance
Nonconformity
Unconventionality
Is to dare to be?
Let your hair down
Can’t you see?

Let it go
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
No no
We are made
We are not born
Let it go
Let it go
Let it free your body
Let it move your soul
Let it go
Woman is made
She is not born

Let it go, let it go …

(Luba)

Food For Thought series

Give without Remembering,
Take without Forgetting.

Photocredit: MoonLit Trees by Kevin Temple (photonet)

Perspective people perspective...

Change the way you look at things and the things you look at will change.

I can’t count the times I’ve either received this advice, or given it. But it’s true and although it can be a major challenge it can often make the world of difference to our well-being, our stress levels, and our quality of life.

Relax! None of us can control the world we live in. We can’t control the rain that falls on a day we’d counted on to be sunny. We can’t control the bus schedule, or the train schedule. We can’t control whether the internet servers are up and running or whether they’ve crashed (again).

The only thing we can control is our reactions to it. Our initial gut reactions (anger, frustration, self-pity) should be acknowledged, but not allowed to reign. Allow yourself a finite period of self-pity if you didn’t get the job you went for, but once that allotted time is up, get up shake yourself off and get back to work. Likewise with anger and frustration…acknowledge it then move on to a practical solution.

Namaste

Campaign for Real Beauty

Questions? Comments?
Takes alot of effort to try to live up to a marketing fantasy, doesn't it?

Death Be Not Proud

by John Donne

(1572-1631)

---

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Footsteps of Angels

When the hours of Day are numbered,
And the voices of the Night
Wake the better soul, that slumbered,
To a holy, calm delight;

Ere the evening lamps are lighted,
And, like phantoms grim and tall,
Shadows from the fitful firelight
Dance upon the parlor wall;

Then the forms of the departed
Enter at the open door;
The beloved, the true-hearted,
Come to visit me once more;

He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
By the roadside fell and perished,
Weary with the march of life!

They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Folded their pale hands so meekly,
Spake with us on earth no more!

And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given,
More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.

With a slow and noiseless footstep
Comes that messenger divine,
Takes the vacant chair beside me,
Lays her gentle hand in mine.

And she sits and gazes at me
With those deep and tender eyes,
Like the stars, so still and saint-like,
Looking downward from the skies.

Uttered not, yet comprehended,
Is the spirit's voiceless prayer,
Soft rebukes, in blessings ended,
Breathing from her lips of air.

Oh, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears are laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such as these have lived and died!
(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

We don't have an eternity to realize our dreams, only the time we are here.
So let's move, let's forget our fears, let's live large, let's feel the wind, see the sunshine, embrace the gentle wash of rain, let's realize those dreams, ere the evening lamps are lighted and shadows dance on the parlour wall...

The Rose

Some say love it is a river
that drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razer
that leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love it is a hunger
an endless aching need
I say love it is a flower
and you it's only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of wakingthat never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
who cannot seem to give
and the soul afraid of dyingthat never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed
that with the sun's love
in the spring
becomes the rose
(Bette Midler)

The strongest walls guard the most timorous hearts.