The following verse developed from a daydream.  I imagined that just for a few minutes I was allowed to go back in time to pre-Christian Europe.  I found myself on a hill on a lovely blue afternoon.  There was an elm tree on the hill, and under it a little girl with two thick blonde pigtails was threading flower-bracelets.  I asked her what she knew about the world, about life and death and the Gods.  She answered me in a sort of sing-song, as if reciting a lesson learned (no doubt) from the local priest, and this is something like what she told me:

A Pagan Credo:

1

The Sun is my Father,

The Earth is my Mother,

The Moon is her mirror

The Planets are his other wives -

They are barren.  Only my Mother is fertile!

The blue sky is the Sun’s meadow,

Where we all live.

The night is a great dark forest

Surrounding our meadow on every side.

The stars are other meadows in the forest far away.

2

When I die, I shall sink down into my Mother’s womb

To rest and grow young again,

In the arms of my dear dead,

In the lodge of the Old Ones.

When the cycles come round

I shall fly up to the Moon, Mother’s mirror.

And when it is full of bright young spirits,

Down we shall fall in the blessed rain.

3

The black earth will drink us,

The trees drink us too.

The fields will sprout herbs,

The trees will drop fruit.

On Walpurgis-night, or Midsummer’s Eve,

I’ll wait in the apple,

I’ll watch in the parsley.

Robin or Marian will happen along,

Spy me, pluck me, gulp me down!

Two by two into the thickets they go,

Loving all night in the Mother’s soft gaze.

Nine months later I’ll open my eyes

And weep as they tie up my navel-string.

4

Thus life after life we tread the round,

School and holidays, until we grow wise.

When we grow up, then they’ll give us real work:

For the Gods need our help, though they don’t tell us why.

Then, at the end, she put her head on one side, looked up at me and said, “Poor man!  Don’t you know anything at all?”

Then I vanished.

Dark and foreboding, crushing me,
Tempting me to run, to break away
Every whisper is a scream
Pounding in my brain
Every star is a pinpoint of pain
Scattered across the sky like
Shining reminders of the past
Howls of wolves scream my rage
Sending shivers through my spine
An overwhelming urge to scream
Cripples me, I cry out into the night
Yet no one hears my screams
My chest pounds, I break into a cold sweat
I run like a madman, no direction
No purpose except escape.
Hear me! Help me! I stumble and fall
Down into darkness, down into quiet
Down into sweet methodical madness.

If I have already sent this one I appologize. Here’s a replacement.

Silver beams of moonlight cast below
The time has come for me to go.
I spread my wings and soar up high
Never contemplating days gone by.

Above the earth my soul is free
I break apart from the other me.
Through green and silver veils I soar
Searching for the unlocked door.

Nothing moves but the wind and I

In a little while that won’t be

Because there will be moving energy

I stand in the middle of the sacred space

I ground and center, then feel spirit’s grace

I cast my circle, as I’ve done for years

And the pride I feel fills my eyes with tears

I call the quarters, and nows the time

To speak my witches words in rhyme

The power rises in the circle and me

With a clear intent I set it free

The spell is over the time has come

To open circle with harm to none

(Given any other opportunity

A witch is what I’d always choose to be! )

Its been a long and wanting time,
For this focused, forceful rhyme.
Awakened powers, evolve in her,
Complex spells Begin to stir.

Phantom thoughts run through her mind,
A careful blend to her design.
As she weaves, the power grows,
Through her veins this passion flows.

Imagery enshrouds her back,
Mystic sigils all in black.
She has the power to command,
As she takes this final stand.

She spins around, her power grows,
Deadly magick, for her foes.
Her arms raised up into the sky,
A quick release shows her reply.

The clouds are filled with energy,
Flashing lights for all to see.
Rumbling sounds are all around,
You can feel it in the ground.

Bolts of power, flash here and there,
The pain is there for both to share.
One’s for good and one’s for plight,
She wont give up to end this fight.

She wheels back with great command,
The power’s here and in her hand,
With grand resolve, she lets it go,
True and straight she makes her throw.

Her time is through she must retire,
Until next time she will aspire.
Now she starts her long, long, rest,
Time…..until the next request.

They slowly move from tree to tree,
Careful with the things they see.
Shadows in the forest lie,
Watching with a noiseless eye.

The figures continue on their quest,
Hidden dangers and unrest.
On every path that they take,
Brings them closer to the lake.

Ancient trees, line the shore,
Lingering magick… can’t ignore.
Will-o-the-wisp….in the air,
This is the spot, they must prepare.

In a circle they hold hands,
Shouting out….their demands.
The flickering lights, start to glow,
The words they chant, start to flow.

All their words…..are exact,
With all the power they extract.
Weaving, stirring, Witchery,
Casting spells…one, two, three.

There is great purpose, in their skill,
All their power and their will.
From a distance you can see,
Shadows moving…..end-less-ly.

Ageless beauty encased in gold,
Her youthful looks are very old.
Long black hair falls in relief,
Curious stare in disbelief.

Darken holes where eyes should be,
Seeing visions that we cant see.
Death fills her face, with it’s embrace,
In this dark and lonely place.

I lean in close, there is a whisper,
She calls to me, to come to her.
“From this world that’s in-between”
“Have a Spooky Halloween”.

How much more must I feel alone?
How much longer must I cry?
The very soul of me is gone.
Conquered by days gone by.

Inside she stands, she can’t escape,
Standing tall, she bares a cape.
Weathered granite, dark from mold,
Gray and white, and icy-cold.

Lonely sculls, line the floor,
Lost in time, and folklore.
This place is filled with cleverness,
In ageless walls of ruthlessness.

So many things do fill her mind,
All the answers she hopes to find.
Many writings fill this hall,
A different language, on each wall.

Her finger scanning every line,
Complex spells she must define.
Glowing eyes of transfixed gaze,
Her mind sorts through this endless maze.

A numbing smile comes to her lips,
Reading through each line of scripts.
Her conscious starts, to expand,
All these spells at her command.

She turns around, looks at the gate,
Her words are slow and vibrate.
Each and every lock works loose,
Her power’s great, she can’t misuse.

The hinges start to slowly creak,
With every word you hear her speak.
Her eyes they sparkle with delight,
As she walks out, in the night.