(Prose Part 1) Persephone Rises by Sara Wright
While researching Minoan Crete, I learned that each autumn young girls once gathered blue violet saffron crocus to leave as an offering for the Wild Crocus Goddess as they prepared Read More …
While researching Minoan Crete, I learned that each autumn young girls once gathered blue violet saffron crocus to leave as an offering for the Wild Crocus Goddess as they prepared Read More …
Call In the Guardians (For this ritual I always pick a crocus or two or if none are up I buy a hyacinth or some kind of flower to honor Read More …
When attempting to answer the query about how I live engage and express goddess feminism activism and spirituality I think about creating and celebrating rituals either alone or in the Read More …
Sheets of slippery silver slide over the roof’s edge; torrential curtains eat snow. In January a gift of rain brings bare trees to life, blushing maple buds swell.
My Lady is a Messenger; her peaked cap, breast and body tinted the palest rose. A bittersweet orange beak cracks scattered seed.
Last year on December 12th, Guadalupe’s Feast Day, I lit the retablo that sits in the one dark corner of the living room, yet I couldn’t feel Her Presence, Read More …
Outside, one woman’s hammer strikes wood, spikes reluctantly give way. Bare hands cut planks, pound nails, A floor appears where holes once gaped. The carpenter takes pride in her skill. Read More …
About ten years ago I planted my second favorite tree (apples/crabapples are the other), a small northern white cedar in front of the house. Everyone should plant at least one Read More …
The morning my father died I dreamed that he had become a beaver. After the call came and the shock wore off (he had just been operated on apparently successfully Read More …
I walk by her every day. This past summer a golden yellow spider took up housekeeping in the hole at her center; now a gossamer web stretches across the entrance Read More …
This morning as I walked I saw an owl veer into the hemlocks, just above my head. Chestnut patterns stenciled on her feathery breast, powerful barred wings soaring in flight.
Look up at the star that bears your name. Re-member the story. Once you were loved, treated with deep respect. Your Ancestor Field bore a Bear Goddess, and bears her Read More …
Leaving the sanctity of evergreen forest and still wrapped in winter wool, he warily approaches me. I stand riveted to a wet nose and open mouth sniffing and tasting the Read More …