Suppose the Lady made us that we may love Her. Suppose She already loves us as a mother Falls in love with her first-born child, And we are each of us that child. Love is not love unless I give it freely. So I must be free even to doubt Her Or choose not to love Her. That I may love Her freely, She makes Sure I am always free to choose. If She were to appear to me in… Read more

Triskellion is a tradition that incorporates classical Wiccan (Gardnerian and Alexandrian) theology with magical discipline. It was founded in 1977 by Ken and Elizabeth McCaskie, known as Ken Ra and Lady Delthea. At least seven covens have descended from it. Ken Ra relates that he is a descendant of a Scottish Pagan and priestly lineage that is part of Clan MacLeod (owners of the Fairy Flag of Britain) and related to the Royal House of the Isle of Man. He… Read more

Not ex nihilo, out of nothingness, For nothingness does not exist. The word selects what adds up to a name From all the possibilities we might perceive. We see what we name; the name comes first.                         Truth bore names into our world for love of us,                        Because we cannot learn it without names.   Because there was a morning when words quit Their normal job of filtering out most of reality, Because I know how William Blake… Read more

At Samhain 1976, Judy Harrow attended her first Wiccan circle and knew that she had found what she had been looking for all her life. She joined Margot Adler’s study group, about which she has written,[2] My “Gardnerian” training was unique, especially for its time. Not just unique among Gardnerians, unique among Wiccans. By the time I came along, Margot had finished the Questionnaire, the visiting, and the extensive in-depth interviewing. She was in the process of digesting the material… Read more

[ I should note that this is from 1997, at the worst of my illness.]    Seven red temptations have I felt: Of seductive bitterness at the edge Where I begin to descend into clinging Fog, turning light grey, dark grey, black.   Of relief as I return to my sweet abuser.   Of the bright taste of alcohol After years of brown sobriety Even knowing I will descend Into the dull inferno From which I may never rise again…. Read more

In the holy of holies The boy from the hearth Has already drunk the juice From her sacred poppies. He is not afraid As he is swung through the fire That can be seen from miles away. When the swing returns, On it is a black ram. On its fleece the initiates Will stand next year As they take their oaths.   As he raises the knife, Abraham is not afraid. He already knows The still, small voice Will speak… Read more

As his right arm supports me, I hold his left arm with both hands. Gently he lowers me Back, down, beneath the surface.   In the water, undeceived, From the angels’ bonds relieved, I by mercy now reprieved From the cell where first Eve fell. All of Heaven in me dwells. I know the Wisdom of my self And the glory of the Love Whose name I claim forevermore.   As I rise from the water I know that I… Read more

The early days of the Blue Star tradition. Read more

I have told the artists in my classes My self is not a mountain peak; It is a floating island. When I fall asleep, it sinks beneath The surface of the infinitely Compassionate water.   Mermaids in their denim overalls Swim through the passageways, Adjusting dials and gauges, Filling tanks, and singing, each to each, In a language I cannot understand. If I were not to dream at all (The brainwashing experts say It takes only seventy-two hours), My self… Read more

But this is not about pyramids,hexagons, the hardness of diamonds, it is about understanding the Gods. Read more

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