Tag Archive | pagan

Brighid Prayer

Brighid

I light your flame for peace

I light your flame

I light your flame for healing

I light your flame

Brighid of three faces

I light your flame

Brighid of the forge

I light your flame

I light your flame for strength

I light your flame

I light your flame for knowledge

I light your flame

Brighid of the flame of nine tongues

I light your flame

Brighid, goddess of poets

I light your flame

I light your flame for growth

I light your flame

I light your flame in memory

I light your flame

Brighid, Goddess of midwives

I light your flame

Brighid, guardian of the passage into life

I light your flame

I light your flame for calmness

I light your flame

I light your flame for patience

I light your flame

Brighid, guide of lambs

I light your flame

Brighid, Goddess of Sunrise

I light your flame

I light your flame.

Kat Robb

Genealogy of Brighid

Pagan version:

Every day and every night that I say the genealogy of Brighid

I shall not be killed

I shall not be harmed

I shall not be put into a cell

I shall not be wounded

No fire, no sun, no moon shall burn me

No lake, no water, no sea shall drown me.

For I am the child of Poetry,

Poetry, child of Reflection,

Reflection, child of Meditation,

Meditation, child of Lore,

Lore, child of Research,

Research, child of Great Knowledge,

Great Knowledge, child of Intelligence,

Intelligence, child of Comprehension,

Comprehension, child of Wisdom,

Wisdom, child of Brighid.

Carmina Gaedelica edited by Lunea Weatherstone

Christian version

SLOINNEADH na Ban-naomh Bride,

Lasair dhealrach oir, muime chorr Chriosda.

Bride nighinn Dughaill duinn,

Mhic Aoidh, mhic Airt, nitric Cuinn,

Mhic Crearair, mhic Cis, mhic Carmaig, mhic Carruinn.

Gach la agus gach oidhche

Ni mi sloinntireachd air Bride,

Cha mharbhar mi, cha spuillear mi,

Cha charcar mi, cha chiurar mi,

Cha mhu dh’ fhagas Criosd an dearmad mi.

Cha loisg teine, grian, no gealach mi,

Cha bhath luin, li, no sala mi,

Cha reub saighid sithich, no sibhich mi,

Is mi fo chomaraig mo Naomh Muire

Is i mo chaomh mhuime Bride.

THE genealogy of the holy maiden Bride,

Radiant flame of gold, noble foster-mother of Christ,

Bride the daughter of Dugall the brown,

Son of Aodh, son of Art, son of Conn,

Son of Crearar, son of Cis, son of Carina, son of Carruin.

Every day and every night

That I say the genealogy of Bride,

I shall not be killed, I shall not be harried,

I shall not be put in cell, I shall not be, wounded,

Neither shall Christ leave me in forgetfulness.

No fire, no sun, no moon shall burn me,

No lake, no water, nor sea shall drown mc,

No arrow of fairy nor dart of fay shall wound me,

And I under the protection of my Holy Mary,

And my gentle foster-mother is my beloved Bride.

Or another version, obviously not Christian

GENEALOGY OF BRIGIT
The genealogy of the holy maiden Brigit,
Radiant arrow of flame, noble foster-mother of gods,
Brigit the daughter of the Dagda,
Dagda the Good God, the son of Ethlinn,
Ethlinn the daughter of Balor,
Balor the king of the Fomoire.
Every day and every night
That I say the genealogy of Brigit,
I shall not be killed, I shall not be injured,
I shall not be enchanted, I shall not be cursed,
Neither shall my power leave me.
No earth, no sod, no turf shall cover me,
No fire, no sun, no moon shall burn me,
No water, no lake, no sea shall drown me,
No air, no wind, no vapour shall sicken me,
No glamour out of Faery shall o’ertake me,
And I under the protection of the holy maiden,
My gentle foster-mother, my beloved Brigit.

Sloinneadh na Ban-naomh Bride,
Lasair dhealrach oir, muime chorr Chriosda.
Bride nighinn Dughaill duinn,
Mhic Aoidh, mhic Airt, mhic Cuinn,
Mhic Crearair, mhic Cis, mhic Carmaig, mhic Carruinn.
Gach la agus gach oidhche
Ni mi sloinntireachd air Bride,
Cha mharbhar mi, cha spuillear mi,
Cha charcar mi, cha chiurar mi,
Cha mhu dh’ fhagas Criosd an dearmad mi.
Cha loisg teine, grian, no gealach mi,
Cha bhath luin, li, no sala mi,
Cha reub saighid sithich, no sibhich mi,
Is mi fo chomaraig mo Naomh Muire
Is i mo chaomh mhuime Bride

BunniHoTep helps Yemaya

Once upon a time there was a small rabbit goddess named BunniHotep. Occasionally she liked to go down to the seaside and sit on the sand and watch the waves come in. One day she had been sitting there for sometime and was actually becoming a bit bored when she saw a woman walking down the beach.

BunniHotep watched her walk slowly toward her and waited. The woman was a beautiful shade of dark brown and her lively hair was even darker, the colour of rich beautiful Nile mud and she walked with a queenly stride but she also seemed to be very sad. Her lovely brown eyes seem to hold the woes of the world in them and it weighed heavily upon her. She came up to BunniHoTep and sank gracefully down beside her.

In a low quiet voice she asked BunniHoTep, “Are you the one who finds things?” She sighed and fell silent.

BunniHoTep looked at her a moment and replied, “Yes, that is what I do if it is needed. Did you lose something important?”

The woman replied, “Oh yes, I have lost something very important but not something I necessarily want to find.”

BunniHotep was confused, “What can I do if you don’t really want to find what you have lost?”

The woman paused, “Maybe I had better tell you my story. Have you the time to listen?”

“I always have time to listen,” BunniHotep said and she sat waiting with her ears up and ready.

“My name is Yemaya and I am the goddess of the ocean as well as of people’s hearts and I make the sea salty so it is like the blood that flows in each of us but I make it salty with my tears and I don’t want to cry anymore.”

BunniHoTep nodded, “I can understand that but what do you want me to find? Your sadness? I don’t think I can do that even if you really wanted me too. Isn’t there another way?”

“That is why I came to you, Isis told me long ago how clever you were at puzzles and finding things. I am so tired I can no longer think so do you think you can help me find a way to keep the sea salty and no longer cry and still help my people?”

BunniHoTep was quiet for quite awhile. She stared at the ocean and she knew the life there would start to die if she didn’t do something soon. And then she thought of something in her Temple that was just sitting there doing nothing.

“Ah Ha!” She said, I have just the thing. Wait right here!” And she hopped away as fast as she could for there was no time to waste!

She got to her Temple and asked one of her priestesses to get the object from the offering storeroom and to please carry it back for her while she hopped quickly back.

The priestess came running, breathing heavily over the sand because running across hot sand is hard work.

“I have it!” the Priestess said. She was carrying a large box with a funnel on top and a large handle and a big drawer on the bottom.

“Please set it down and stand back, please.” BunniHoTep motioned for Yemaya to move closer. “I think this will fix the problem. This is a special object. It makes salt. All you have to do is once a day, turn the handle and take what is in the box and spread it across the water. That way you make the sea salty and only cry for people if you feel the need to not because you have to do it.” BunniHoTep stepped back and let her try it.

Yemaya turned the crank slowly and then faster. She went and spread the salt from the drawer across the tide after she had ground a bit.

“Oh, BunniHoTep, Isis was right you are a clever and loving rabbit. I will always treasure this. Thank you!” And she placed a kiss on the forehead Isis loved to kiss. She gave her a quick stroke across her fur and picked up her new treasure and walked back down the beach like the goddess she was.

BunniHotep and the Priestess walked back to the Temple to share a few nice carrots and a cup of tea.

From my silly brain and the Lapin Archives

2017 Witchy reading challenge so far

2017 Witches & Witchcraft Reading Challenge

ge”>2017 Witches & Witchcraft Reading Challenge

Initiate: Read 1 – 5 Witchy Books
Maiden: Read 6 – 10 Witchy Books
Mother: Read 11 – 15 Witchy Books
Crone: Read 16 – 20 Witchy Books

First two books are done. I think I’m driving myself crazy to do this paper on allegedly pagan literature for the Pagan Studies Conference at Claremont because I’m finding most things aren’t pagan and they really don’t qualify as literature.

If you know of any good pagan fiction authors other than the ones I have already confirmed, let me know in the comments.

Most are self identified or I know them

Diana Paxson – Former COG president

Kevin Hearne- OBOD – Iron Druid Series

Penny Billington – OBOD, Druid Detective series

Laurel K Hamilton

Yasmine Galenorn

Starhawk

M.R. Sellars

Morgan Daimler

Ellen Everett Hopman- FOI (Fellowship of Isis)

Patricia Kennealy Morrison – Keltiad series

Dion Fortune

Rosemary Edgehill

Cate Tiernan

Mercedes Lackey

Deborah Blake

Mindy Klasky ? Cupcake Tarot?

Michael Munz

Caitlin Matthews FOI

John Matthews FOI

Silver Ravenwolf

Alice Walker

Philip Carr Gomm OBOD

Kevan Manwaring OBOD

Gail Nyoka

Ann Finnin – Roebuck

Barbara Ardinger – FOI

New Story – The Littlest Druid needed some Yuletide cheer

The Littlest Druid pushed through the snowy afternoon. She needed to be at the next small village to sing at their Solstice celebration and she was afraid she wouldn’t make it. It didn’t snow often here but when it did it could quickly get very deep. She was cold and she was wet and she smelled like a wet sheep.

Her raven had flown ahead a long time ago and she was feeling very alone. She wished she was warm and safe in her village waiting for the Solstice in the barrow (Brú na Bhoinne) waiting for the Sun to return. Being a Bard was way harder than she thought. She had mediated a village disagreement that was just plain silly at her last village. She had sung every song at about the Fae at another one, they hadn’t wanted to hear anything else.

The Sun had disappeared a few hours ago and she was now following the stars to the next village. She was homesick and she was tired of the dark and she was missing Beith and the Head Druid who was so kind to her and she was feeling very alone in the dark with just her pack and her staff and musical instruments for company.

All the sheep and cows had been gathered into the crofts and the only animals she had seen were a few deer. There was no one to talk to out here.

She started to hum a rather sad tune that had begun haunting her several hours ago.  It was started to cloud over and she was afraid it would begin to snow again, she gave a huge sigh.

“Oh, Aisling, that was a particularly big one,” a soft voice said behind her.

Aisling almost levitated out of her boots. She turned and saw a familiar green mantle. “Brighid!” she shrieked. She had a very strong impulse to hug her favourite goddess. She stopped. One does not hug goddesses particularly when one is wet and cold and stinking of sheep.

Brighid grabbed her around the shoulders and gave her the hug she’d wanted to give her. Suddenly she was warm and dry and a lot more comfortable. Her raven came flying back and landed on Brighid’s other shoulder.

“I love that you are here out in the middle of all this snow and I thank you for the warmth but why are you way out here?” Aisling asked bravely.

“You” said Brighid. “Bards should bring hope and cheer at Solstice to welcome the flame and the birth of the Sun. You are getting close to the village and they want you to celebrate with them. You are a light for their Solstice.”

“I don’t feel like a light right at the moment, at all.” She said rather emphatically.

“I know, Aisling, I know. That’s why I’m here. You can see the village lights shining across the snow? This village really needs you to be their light in the dark. There were a lot of deaths near Samhain and they have been very sad and in a dark, dark place. No Bard or Druid has been here for many months. You will be the first in a long time.”

“How can I be a light when all I want to do go home and be with my people? Until you came I was cold and miserable and very stinky”

“Aisling, look around you and what do you see?” As they had been walking the sky had cleared and stars shown.

“I see the stars, oh so many bright stars. I see tall trees and oh! There are some rabbits under the trees. And a deer and there’s an owl in that tree ahead.”

“Were you alone?” asked Brighid raising an eyebrow.

“Nooo,” replied Aisling.”I was a little blindered, wasn’t I?”

“We all get that way sometimes.” Brighid said thoughtfully.

“Even you?” Aisling asked

“Even me.” nodded Brighid.

“It’s hard to look for the good in the world. It’s hard to look for beauty and for the love in the world when all looks dark.” said Brighid.

“Your job, though, is to remind people there is good in the world even at the darkest of times and hours. The Sun always returns at the darkest hour and so does hope. There is always life in death and light in dark and a spark of hope if you know where to look. You just have to remember to look.” Brighid pointed to a woodpecker with his bright red head diving onto a tree branch. A full moon had risen as they were walking and it was very, very still.

Beautiful lights gleamed across the snow in welcome. Aisling felt calm and ready to face this sad village. She strode forward and Brighid faded away.

She was ready to be the light.

 

 

 

 

 

A Prayer for St Lucy’s Day

May your candles be lit in joy.

May you have the sweetness of life on your lips

May your life be full of light in the dark of winter

May you have friends to share the light with

May you find the evergreen within yourself and be able to share it with others

May you be ready for light to return to the world

May the Tomtes protect you from evil and misfortune

May the Yule goat Bring you what you need and what would bless you this Yule.

May you look forward to the light’s return as well as blessing the restful and pregnant dark.

Bjorn the bear’s winter dream

Once upon time there was a small bear named Bjorn. Bjorn was born in a far northern forest up where it was very, very cold in winter. Bjorn had been born in the dead of winter with his brother and sister, Berta and Esben. They spent that first winter cuddled close to their mama and as they got older she started to tell them stories about the outside world.

Deep in their den she told them about tall trees they would see and deep, cold lakes and about the high mountains around the place they lived. He heard about the salmon that swam in the rivers in spring and about the rabbits and squirrels that lived near the den. His mom told them where they could find a honey tree and where the best back scratching trees were.

When spring came there were no more stories, Mama led them out into a world of wonder. To the bear’s eyes the world was born anew just for them. The snow was gone and the water ran clear. Mama taught them to hunt and to fish. She taught them how to hide in plain sight as they grew. She taught them to stay away from people. People had guns and guns hurt bears.

They grew quickly ambling along in the forest and the summer passed in beautiful days of deep burning blue skies and sunlit days in their northern forest. As the days got shorter Mama showed them where the best blackberry bushes were and the cubs stuffed themselves fat. They got so sticky Mama had to dunk them all in the spring and in late fall they went back to their den to sleep. This year, when they woke up in their long sleep Mama would tell them about a tree that she had seen one winter not far from their lair. She had woken in up on Solstice night and had felt the need to walk in the quiet of the forest. It had been silent except for the owls and she had seen a bright light.

Mama bear followed the light across the forest and watched it land in a little pine trees branches. The tree had stood there bearing the star in its branches and had lit up their forest. It was so beautiful. The bear had gone back to her den to sleep after the lovely sight and had never managed to wake up again on Solstice Night. The cubs bothered her the rest of winter for that story. It became their favourite winter story and Bjorn began to have a dream. He wanted to stay awake and see the tree and the star but that winter was deep and cold and the bears slept most of the winter and didn’t come out until the next spring.

The bear cubs were bigger that year and Mama spent most of the summer teaching them how to be on their own. That fall they would have to make their own dens for the first time. She taught them how much they needed to eat to store enough fat to make it through the winter. She taught them how to make it cozy and she taught them how to stay away from other bigger bears. Soon it came to be fall and the cubs split up for the first and last time. Each of them choosing a different direction to go and seek a place to make their own and all the time he was choosing and making his own den, Bjorn day dreamed. He was going to find some way to wake up and see the tree and star.

He kept trying to figure out a way to wake himself up. His mother had told him that just wasn’t possible, that if he was meant to see it he would wake up in exactly the right time to see it, otherwise it just wasn’t meant to be. She had supposed that it was something most bears would ever see once in a life time and then only if they were very, very lucky. She didn’t even know if it happened every year or if it had happened only once. She had never heard anybody else in the forest ever talk about it.

Bjorn swore he would be that lucky bear! He would wake up on Winter Solstice and he would see that star and his friend, the tree. He wanted to know what that special night was like. He wanted it with all his heart and he kept whispering to himself as he lay down for his winter nap to “Remember to wake up! Remember to wake up!”

He extremely disappointed to wake up and it was almost spring. It was different in a den by yourself with no brother and sister and no mama to tell you tales. He had slept the winter away and missed it. He was horribly disappointed and fell back asleep until spring had truly arrived.

This went on for several years and Bjorn had decided it just was a dream his mom had dreamed and maybe he should just give it up. Bears belonged in dens in the winter sleeping not roaming around in the cold and dark forest.

Bjorn was making his den again one fall and he remembered the story but just shook his great black head. No point in wishing, he would just sleep anyway and tucked himself into his lair but this year was different.

One cold, cold clear night Bjorn woke up. At first he was disoriented. What had woken him up? And then he heard it. He could hear a faint chiming and see a bit of light filtering in the entrance to his den. “Could it be? Could it really truly be?”

Bjorn shot out of his den and pushed the heavy snow way from his den and stood up. The light was coming from the north but not very far away at all! He started to move quickly through the snow. He saw other animals around him, a small herd of elk. Snowshoe hares that should have been asleep were lolloping through the snow. White owls that flew silently over head hooting softly. “Come, come celebrate with usssss”

And they came. They came to a tree that was standing all alone in a field of deep snow. In the tree’s branches a star hung nestled at the top and shedding star dust all around. The snow sparkled and shone all around. The animals crept closer and closer and soon it seemed every kind of animal was there and on this night it felt like they were all friends. A deep peace hung over the forest and the only thing that could be heard was a soft chiming from the star.

Bjorn had never felt this way before. No hunger, no need to hunt, just a need to be with other creatures and to maybe, just maybe have friends and be at peace. He looked at the other animals. They seemed to be feeling the same thing as they sat in large circles around that tree absorbing the blessing of the tree and the star and Bjorn thought to himself, “Sometimes having a dream come true is better than any dream.”

He sat in the snow and a small hare snuggled up to him and then a squirrel. A great deer lay down near by and an owl sat in the rack of his antlers. For this night there was peace in the forest and the blessing of a star from far away and a lonely little tree that was his friend.

***This follows yesterday’s “Lonely Little Star” and is available here: http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/146621239X/ref=mp_s_a_1?qid=1354728417&sr=8-1&pi=SL75