Tag Archive | pagan

Say my name that I may live – Laura Janesdaughter

548048_10151926094625697_409710870_n

For those gone too soon:

I give thanks for those who have gone beyond the veil.

Say my name that I may live!

I give thanks that they have touched my life

Say my name that I may live!

I remember the beauty of a face

Say my name that I may live!

I remember that they laughed

Say my name that I may live!

I remember that they cried

Say my name that I may live!

I remember that they were afraid

Say my name that I may live!

I remember that they were brave

Say my name that I may live!

I remember their smile

Say my name that I may live!

I remember the good about them

Say my name that I may live!

I remember their love

Say my name that I may live!

I remember them!

Say my name that I may live!

©Kat Robb

How “the Dance or BunniHoTep and the real reason for the Flood” was written

A lot of my stories were dreamed but this one wasn’t. It was born on the way home from our twice yearly Solstice Faires. Long Beach Womenspirit and TOILA (Temple of Isis Los Angeles) have been putting on Faires for over 25 years now. It’s goes to once a year on Summer Solstice this year, we are too old and there are fewer and fewer of us to do all the work but anyway we do Faire.

We always have plenty of good pagan entertainment and some years we have had at least 3 groups of belly dancers, as well as storytellers like me and musical acts like Ruth Barrett and Lisa Thiel or Miri Hunter. We used to end every Faire with a group bellydance led by Anniitra after her performance. The year I wrote this it turned into lessons and C and E were two kids there dancing with Anniitra and just glowing with life and joy.

Somehow this touched something in my heart and the story started to take shape. It solidified when I got home and was going through the 400 photos minimum I usually take to document Faire, one year it was closer to 800. And I managed to capture some of it and within an hour I was writing and the Dance was born. It’s still one of my favourites if just because it’s so anti Judeo-Christian interpretation of the event that actually does show in geologic sediment in the Mediterranean as having really happened and since cultures all over the world have Flood stories, why not another one. Anyway, that was how this particular story came to be.

And here are the photos:

A prayer for Laura

 

FB_IMG_1463954007608

Oh Hecate, Be with us this week
This was a week, 3 years ago that was so hard
You sat with us as we sat with Laura
We watched her pass from our realm to yours
We sang, We prayed, We read to her
We soothed her fears and tried to sooth our own
We loved her in all the ways we could
And we wept.

FB_IMG_1463954037518
Oh Hecate, let her know she was loved
Let her know her name is still spoken
Let her know that her life was written on our hearts
Let her know she helped us grow
She taught us to be priestesses by her being one
She taught us to stay on the path

FB_IMG_1463954069741
She showed us the Goddess and we followed
She showed us courage
She showed us love
She showed us the path
Oh Hecate, I miss her
I miss her ideas
I miss her encouragement
I miss her wild red hair and ever changing streaks
I miss the matching nail polish
But most of all I miss her wisdom and love

FB_IMG_1464020583486

The Night Before Beltane

This is what happens when the system goes down at work. Never let a pagan’s brain roam.

                     )O(

T’was the night before Beltane

And all through the house

Not a creature was stirring

Well, Brownies chasing a mouse.

The Maypole was hung in the garden

With care

In hopes that the coven soon would be there.

The people were nestled all snug in their tents

Some of them dreaming of bonfires immense

And I in my sleep shirt and she in much less

And just settled in to state of undress.

When out on the lawn arose such a clatter

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the doorway I flew like a fool

And promptly tripped over her mules.

The moon rose high over lawns green and dim

Gave luster to a man who was definitely not slim

Surrounded by Maenads it now did appear

That Beltane was going to be wilder this year.

With a great bowl of wine and a keg by his side

I knew that Sir Bacchus had now just arrived.

“To the Maypole, to the Maypole”, he cried

And I hoped that the cheeses and meat would survive.

The Maenads were dancing and making us dizzy

And I knew that the Priestesses would throw such a tizzy

They were being upstaged by the Maenads crazed dance

That only Radical Fairies even stood half a chance.

I feared for the children’s well dressing to last

The Maenads were sweeping along in the paths

The Maypole was leaning a bit to the south

While I just stood gaping with wide open mouth

He was dressed all in leaves, from head to his toe

With grape vines entwined thoughout, don cha know.

A keg on two legs was found at his heels

I could see that he hardly ever missed a few meals.

His face was so red and shined with a glow

The wreath on his head was tipping just so

He smiled with a smile just full of great glee

He was going to be our most favourite party crashee

He gathered us round and started the dance

We all then joined in for such a fine prance.

Morning came when the sun started to rise

He waved us goodbye from over the rise

“Drink plenty of wine!” He gave us his warning

“Happy Beltane to all and to all a great morning”.

By ElfKat ©2012

A Prayer for Survival of Mercury Retrograde

Goddess, give me the strength and energy to survive

This Mercury Retrograde

Give me the patience of water wearing at a rock

The quick relentless energy of the red squirrel

The stick- to-it-veness of a lichen

The intelligence of the blue whale

The ability to rise from the mud of a lotus

The impassiveness when dealing with rude, stupid people of a redwood

The strength of an oak tree

The force when necessary of an octopus

And the ability to adapt of a chameleon.

Give me peace

Give me grace

Give me calmness in the face of exaggerated crisis mode

On the part of others

Let me be grounded

Let me be flexible

Let me have the ability to let things pass around me

And on to somewhere else

Goddess help me.

Poetry Month – Who is the Goddess?

The Goddess is dark and beautiful with knowing eyes.

The Goddess is old and walks with a cane.

The Goddess is the colour of rich cream and is surrounded by art.

The Goddess is the colour of brick dust and watches over the flocks surrounded by no one.

The Goddess is pink, flushed from a race.

The Goddess is pale and sits alone in the dark.

The Goddess is small and wizened with dark eyes.

The Goddess is round and strong with muscular arms from hard work.

The Goddess is thin and ill and labours to breathe for it is work.

The Goddess stands with arms out blessing her gardens and fields.

The Goddess is dying in her bed surrounded by ones who love her.

The Goddess dies alone on a dirty street ignored with the trash.

The Goddess cries at injustice and pain and abuse.

The Goddess walks strongly on mountain path leading children of all shapes sizes and colours.

The Goddess follows behind and hopes she makes a difference.

The Goddess is in everyone of us.

The Goddess looks like us.

The Goddess is in the mirror.

Listen to her.

©2014 Kat Robb

Poetry Month – Rudyard Kipling

A Tree Song”

OF all the trees that grow so fair,

Old England to adorn,

Greater are none beneath the Sun,

Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn.

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs,

(All of a Midsummer morn!)

Surely we sing no little thing,

In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oak of the Clay lived many a day,

Or ever AEneas began.

Ash of the Loam was a lady at home,

When Brut was an outlaw man.

Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town

(From which was London born);

Witness hereby the ancientry

Of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Yew that is old in churchyard-mould,

He breedeth a mighty bow.

Alder for shoes do wise men choose,

And beech for cups also.

But when ye have killed, and your bowl is spilled,

And your shoes are clean outworn,

Back ye must speed for all that ye need,

To Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Ellum she hateth mankind, and waiteth

Till every gust be laid,

To drop a limb on the head of him

That anyway trusts her shade:

But whether a lad be sober or sad,

Or mellow with ale from the horn,

He will take no wrong when he lieth along

‘Neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight,

Or he would call it a sin;

But – we have been out in the woods all night,

A-conjuring Summer in!

And we bring you news by word of mouth-

Good news for cattle and corn-

Now is the Sun come up from the South,

With Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!

Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs

(All of a Midsummer morn):

England shall bide ti11 Judgment Tide,

By Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!