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poem

I am Wiccan

Heather Miles July, 2010

I am Wiccan,
It’s in my heart.
I am Wiccan,
Every ounce of every part.
I lead my life in a different way,
With the Goddess by my side.
I work with the elements each passing day,
And complete my spells with pride.
I hide behind a mirrored door,
Afraid to show my face.
I am me and so much more,
But to you I am a disgrace.
I walk the ways of Our Earth Mother,
And follow the words “Ye Harm None“.
Just because some have chosen another,
Does not make mine the wrong One.
Love and Light to those who know,
The truth behind what I write.
As Wiccan’s we must grow,
And show the world our MIGHT.
This poem is dedicated to some members of my family who frown upon my way of life, and disapprove with my beliefs. I love to express myself in my poems because it’s a doorway that never closes……

Chatter

Sky_Emmons July, 2010

Chatter chatter chatter

Go all the talking heads

Speaking no wisdom

Just hate and indifference

Wake up in the morning

To shouts of “us and them”

Power in their words

Ratings behind their Amen’s

Yes rouse up the people

Divide what is yours and mine

Pack up your belongings

You’re no longer alive

Get out! Go back!

What I say goes

I have all the answers

From my microphone throne

In the land of mass communication

Divinity has nothing on me

I can lie, cheat and deceive

Instantaneously

Don’t tell me to think

They do it for me

I believe what I hear

Cause it brings superiority

Gray matter

No matter

Is it time yet?

Chatter chatter chatter

I’m late! I’m late!

The Hatter’s gone again

And the Queen is yelling

Off with his head!

Synchronicity

Sky_Emmons June, 2010

A delicate balance

Hangs on a thread

By the sea

By the moon

A strand in the web

Journey after journey

Fragile and small

A Knot and a Shoe

Through time

On a little blue ball

A connection

We finally see

Too late though it may be

For a Knot and a Shoe

Break the synchronicity

You can blot

A flower till it fades

You can take

An endless take

Payment will be made

On this little blue ball

All life can’t you see?

Hangs on a thread

A beautiful, glistening web

Of synchronicity

Splinters

Sky_Emmons April, 2010

Falling stars

Leave splinters in the hollow

Of your heart

Nakedness standing trees

I fill this cup

With hastiness and greed

When all this ends

Do we pretend?

Or is it a sign

When all things divide

We’re left here torn

Shattered, tethered

Better or for worse

An island or a curse

I feel the ocean

Wash over me

Leave me here to bleed

I won’t say a thing

For in the darkness

Is it not your sin?

The garden divine

Leaves, thorns and vines

Hallow ground and halo

The Great Serpent Rainbow

Yes, I’ll remain here

Where I can breathe

Where the wind and the trees

Sing in harmony

From love I’m here

To love, I return

Tales from the Dark Moon

Sky_Emmons March, 2010

So here I have traveled
Where wisdom fills the air
A Shadow in the darkness
I struggle to hear
“Tales from the Dark Moon”
She whispers of “Old Black Bear”

Wandering woods
Thistle and blade
Flower and candles
Somethings gone astray

Fortnight, and a million years
Stars shown brightly, without fear
They shined on and on
So without scars
Until on night Black Bear
Found Rage in a jar

So the stars climbed higher and higher
As so did desire
Becoming smaller and smaller
Into emptiness and sadness
Nothingness transpired

Beware of what hides
Under hills
And in jars
In your heart
In the closet
Near or far

Black Bear found a way
Forgiveness of oneself
Releases the Rage

The Old Black Bear
Became a petal in the sun
Shed her anger, shed her blood
But it could not be undone

This tale
Lives in us all
She spoke softly and said
“Here comes the darkness”
Gathering threads
Of the last shawl

My journey has ended
And soon it will be
Tales from the Dark Moon
I will say when you come to me

Standing Still

Willow Winterborne February, 2010

DE79 Standing Still

Standing still
On the edge of I know not what
I take a deep breath and steel my nerves.
It is not the moving forward that is scary
But the standing still
Breathe in. Breathe out
Frozen in time, unable to move
What is to be?
What will follow?
No answers, only questions
No parameters, no walls
Only a knowing that something…something is going to happen
Trust. Believe. Know.
Standing still, gathering strength
Waiting
The sounds are louder, the colors more vivid
The scents are stronger here
In suspended animation
I can hear the voices on the wind
Taste the rain
Sense the tension
Clarity in the void, in the waiting room of the gods
Knowing
Not what
But All, in the not knowing.
Poised for action. Ready to strike
But seemingly forever, in a moment,
Standing still

Resolution

Sky_Emmons January, 2010

Peeking around the corner
The day slowly dies
Where I stand
The horizon mist
Swirls in mystery

Watching from a distance
My memory lingers
Shapes and colors
Define the moments
But they don’t define me

Past whispers wisdom
As Present smiles
Future a mirage
A stone in the path
I carry with me

You said “Let go”.
While I tried to hold on
You said “Soon”.
And I wanted now
It all slipped away

Into words I said
This resolution
Into words I could believe
If I listened
You could hear

Next year swirls
In the forests and rivers
Oceans and seas
I can’t capture
She somehow sees

This resolution
Knew better than me.

Samhain Incantation

Sky_Emmons October, 2009

Light the Hill of Tara

The dark half of the year

Awakens

Those that dwell in the hallow hills

With flowers and candles

I honor you

Spirits of the Air

Take me on this journey

End my mourning

Take sadness away

Lift the veil of

Seperation

Of night and day

In the dark of the Earth

I plant the seeds

Of who I want to be

Great Goddess Cailleach

With her hammer

Hardens the earth

Turns the night

Thins the veil

The Crone

Now shines

Spreads her dark cape

To cover the hills

Cover the sea

Cover me in shadows

And I shall remember

There is nothing I want

There is nothing I need

In the darkness I surrender

In the shadows I am alive

Like the seed

Under the Earth

Goddess Enelne

Theresa C. Newbill September, 2009

sees herself in the skeleton of moonlight,
a sentient being in the whiteness of madness
where disturbing platitudes of murmuring curses
echo through the fascination of a crystal ball. She,
irksome black witch, bleeds green gems of woven
jade as an opaque pavilion of stars wades into
tangled clouds. In the darkness, She grows larger!
In the darkness, She grows louder! Holistic eyelids
like a scythe proscribe morbid dances drinking in the
calmness of tandem wines. The history of past years
inhale and exhale wildly through an open stare of pure
consciousness, finding a beacon to eulogize humanity’s
cries without censure. Relish in Her beauty, for She is
the Goddess of all natural things found beneath the skies.
Enelne! Enelne! The butterflies bring you treasures while
Katamba sends you His love. Take heart dear ones, for
The Great Mother of the Rakash, shall guard and guide
your souls though the many faces and multitudes of tears.

HearthBeats: Notes from a Kitchen Witch

Hearthkeeper September, 2009

First I would like to say Merry Meet to you all and ask how your summer has been so far. Secondly I would like to ask you all to help me out a bit. I would like to write these columns about the things YOU want. So please e-mail me at thehearthkeeper@gmail.com
with your ideas and desires for the Hearthbeats notes and recipes columns…

Now as I would like to share a poem with you. It was shared with me years ago and often I remember it when I feel like a crackpot… hopefully it will help you as well and as often

Blessings

Some wise words from the Kitchen Witch

An elderly Witch had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole, which she carried across her shoulders. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the witch bringing home only one and a half pots of water.. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the witch one day by the stream.’ I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.’ The old witch smiled, ‘Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side?’

‘That’s because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower and herb seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them’.

‘For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers and herbs to decorate the table and cook with. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house and feed us.’

Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it’s the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You’ve just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them. SO, to all of my crackpot friends and family, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Life is short, Break the rules, Kiss slowly, Love truly, Laugh uncontrollably and Dance often.

Never regret anything that made you smile. And remember that being a Crackpot is a good thing!!!

This poem was given to me years ago, I do not know who wrote it nor have I been able to find out. But I did modify it from its original form to be “witchy” rather than what it was.

If anyone lays claim to it or know who wrote the original let me know and I will give credit to them.

Until next time

Blessed Home and Hearth

The Hearthkeeper

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