Sit down with a cup of your favourite tea and take a moment for yourself while reading some poetry written by our resident witch, Kitty.
THE PATH
A witch's lore, by three or naught,
Rigid like stone, fluid as water.
Knowledge given, knowledge sought,
Learned by the Coven, passed down to the daughter.
Worked in shadow, in secret, in dark,
Ride on the wind, sway with the moon.
Or let the whole world see your art,
Embrace, practice, dance t'your own tune.
Find her in ancestors or find her in books,
Awaken the inner wilde.
It matters not how to you this path looks,
See you walking it now, our Mothers child.
Initiated to, formally or no
You've found this way, or it found you.
Two journeys here are ne'er the same.
How will you walk it? What with it will you do?
A witch's lore, by three or naught,
Rigid like stone, fluid as water.
Knowledge given, knowledge sought,
Learned by the Coven, passed down to the daughter.
Worked in shadow, in secret, in dark,
Ride on the wind, sway with the moon.
Or let the whole world see your art,
Embrace, practice, dance t'your own tune.
Find her in ancestors or find her in books,
Awaken the inner wilde.
It matters not how to you this path looks,
See you walking it now, our Mothers child.
Initiated to, formally or no
You've found this way, or it found you.
Two journeys here are ne'er the same.
How will you walk it? What with it will you do?
THE CALL
Of earth, water, air and fire,
together we are kin.
I trust the voice, the guide, the knowing,
Spirit without, Spirit within.
I am my ancestor's daughter, of blood, of bone, the witch.
Their muscle memory alive in mine,
a jerk, a jolt, a twitch.
They live and breathe within in me still,
voices loud with conviction.
Of experience true, stories passed on,
my teachers, this life lesson.
I am them, in all their forms, the embodiment of the source.
I hear the call and answer assured - let this olde magick through me course.
Of earth, water, air and fire,
together we are kin.
I trust the voice, the guide, the knowing,
Spirit without, Spirit within.
I am my ancestor's daughter, of blood, of bone, the witch.
Their muscle memory alive in mine,
a jerk, a jolt, a twitch.
They live and breathe within in me still,
voices loud with conviction.
Of experience true, stories passed on,
my teachers, this life lesson.
I am them, in all their forms, the embodiment of the source.
I hear the call and answer assured - let this olde magick through me course.
RITUAL
This is a time to purge, she uttered
The distractions hear them call not
Lay in the darkness, the still
Water drawn; the thrumming of its arrival forgot
Upon the surface, a heartbeat pulse
Below it salt and herb and mineral
Flesh and memory
Blood and soul
All that is tangible, all that is visceral
I release unto you, she muttered
String of words
Fumbled spell
This tub
A dark moon altar
To let shadows dwell
Draw out from the depths
Make room, make way
But do not make haste
Shake loose from the innards
Begone now, don’t stay
This is a time to purge, she whispered
I have seen you
I have known you
You serve me no more
One body holds the released
Cradling as the other
Steps out of the bath
It is done.
This is a time to purge, she uttered
The distractions hear them call not
Lay in the darkness, the still
Water drawn; the thrumming of its arrival forgot
Upon the surface, a heartbeat pulse
Below it salt and herb and mineral
Flesh and memory
Blood and soul
All that is tangible, all that is visceral
I release unto you, she muttered
String of words
Fumbled spell
This tub
A dark moon altar
To let shadows dwell
Draw out from the depths
Make room, make way
But do not make haste
Shake loose from the innards
Begone now, don’t stay
This is a time to purge, she whispered
I have seen you
I have known you
You serve me no more
One body holds the released
Cradling as the other
Steps out of the bath
It is done.
THE BATON
Farewell Wintertide, your shadowy depths and your cold.
Your stillness on the surface taught many lessons to behold.
I have not wished for you to rush, nor for you to pause,
But honoured your invitation to slowness and withdraw.
It is time to pass the baton and let the wheel turn once again,
Time to thaw and embrace the Springtime as if greeting a new friend.
Now there are blooms atop my table, their perfume heady and sweet.
Outside they blanket like a snow, Springs nod to the cold as it retreats.
Welcome Spring, you marvellous thing with brighter days ahead.
Tis a grateful heart, with Winter we part, as he lays down unto his bed.