So, I’ve been a little hard on the Pagan community lately. I’ve decried abuses and hierarchies, lack of political engagement, and the leftovers of the sexual culture of the 1960s that still thrive in many corners of it. Those things are true, in my opinion, and I stand by them.
Whose warm love flows across the land each day Stirring Life, the world’s magic, arms yearning up, Turning each green leaf to follow. Whose generous balm Upon the skin is love’s touch, ahhhhhh heated fingers soothing, Whose roar boils water from ocean to sky Drawing sweet from salt, becoming rain,…
With love for all of you, on this the eve of May Day… May Morning Fresh as the day the world was made, This morning: dew-spattered through feather fans Of foxtail and wild rye. Mars is low on the horizon, for once. Still As a caught…
The avalanche took our home. A wave of ice drove us before it, And everything we thought we had we loaded on our backs And fled, but no luck: the cold fist ground us under. Home. Years. Love. Work. Health. We cried as it passed over…
It begins where the smoke hits your eyes: smouldering peat, Mutton stew on a broad iron hook, Deep snow. How can it ever have been summer? Apples wrinkling and mice in the barley— With so much to fear, thank fortune for company! We’ll tell our…
O cold, inexorable darkness Draw back now beyond these circling walls. Should fear, and want, and danger walk It shall not be, it is not here. Let this place of warming light Bulwark against freezing night: a promise Holding through the day that we, come nightfall…
