VOLCANA'S PAGAN POETRY PAGE
This page was last updated on April 15, 2008 (yes, tax day). I've been married for about 3 weeks, and things are getting back to normal. Name change is almost complete, though my credit cards are saying I need to fax them a copy of my marriage license before they'd go through with it. So, I have that to do, along with utilities and voter registration. You can check out more information on the About the Author page for updates. Also, I'll include my Live Journal page on the Author page as well. I'm still working on my book as well. Currently, there are 119,000 words written in an extremely rough draft form. For a teaser, click HERE.
Other than that, things are going well. It has been awhile since I've updated this site, but if you've been paying attention, enjoy the new additions. Bright Blessings!
INDEX:
Samhain, Yule, Imbolc,
Ostara, Beltane, Litha,
Lammas, Mabon, Bast,
Brighid, Goddess Bless America,
Seasons, "I am the Goddess",
Song for the Moon, Blue Gaze, Broken
Jack 'O Lanterns grin from decorated porches
To invite all in with face-like torches.
Children are dressed up as monsters who go
From door to door as their treat bags grow.
The leaves have fallen on Mother's soft ground --
Their gentle rustle is the night's only sound.
Then from some other plane a presence is felt
As a scent from long ago is certainly smelt.
Inside on this most holy of nights
Pagans gather 'round the red candle lights.
The Crone has joined this world for awhile
To stir Her cauldron with a wink and a smile.
Patchouli smoke swirls as in mirrors we scry
And tell those who've passed a sweet goodbye.
Divination we do to our ancestors dear
As the wheel turns again to end the year.
While we look ahead -- what the future must hold
As we watch our prayers and magick unfold --
Take a bite of this apple -- a pentagram within --
The Otherworld is so close -- the veil is so thin.
The God has gone on to the Land of the Fae,
But do not despair -- today is not a day.
And soon life again will rise and rule
On the Winter's Solstice -- the Sabbat of Yule!
(October 23, 2000)
The cold wind howls on the longest of nights,
But inside we sing by the red and green lights.
Wassail and cookies, feasts of meat
We enjoy until the dawn we greet.
Presents we give to one another
As the Goddess again becomes a Mother.
We light for each of us a candle of gold
As we watch the Battle of Kings unfold.
A child is born - the infant Sun -
The battle with darkness for now is won.
From this day forward the God will grow
Until once again warmer winds blow.
We burn our Yule logs, bells we ring -
This night of mirth - a celebration we sing.
We look upon our Yule tree bright
And think ahead to Imbolc light.
(December 17, 2000)
Brighid blesses us as our candles burn;
Back to spring the great wheels turn.
The Lady smiles as we straighten and clean
To welcome Her in with flowers and green.
Snowbells and grasses peek from the snow;
From the south once again the warmer winds blow.
Recall fair summer -- it is coming soon.
Green Man plays his flute, an enchanting tune.
The Maiden and Youth return to the land
To usher out the winter so cold and bland.
With sunlight, flowers, and greenery flare
The Lord and the Lady change their wear.
We re-dedicate ourselves to Them this night
With smiles of peace in the flickering light.
But for a time yet the cold of winter remains
Until Ostara blows in with healing March rains.
(January 11, 2001)
Equal night, equal day --
The warmth of spring is here to stay.
Daffodils bloom in the sunshine bright
To welcome in Ostara's light.
The Green Man awakens with a yawn
To kiss and caress the golden dawn.
The Lady awakens the land with rains
To break the thrall of winter's chains.
Dogwoods and forsythia in glorious bud;
Grasses emerge from the snow-thawed mud.
Rabbits change their coats to brown,
And little birds hatch, feathers of down.
We dye our eggs red, green, and blue
To symbolize the season alive and new.
Soon the Lady and the Lord will bond
When Beltane comes by chalice and wand.
(March 2, 2001)
We frolic and play amongst the lily blooms.
With ribbons and flowers we decorate our brooms.
With clover garlands and Maypole dances
The dark half of the year is gone as light advances.
Bonfires are lit on this first summer night.
Naked bodies are aglow in the bright firelight.
With kisses, caresses, and twinkling eyes
Warm sounds of love ascend to the skies.
The God and Goddess bless this land
From highest peak to seashore sand.
Since before time began They have come
To make love among us by beat of drum.
We offer some gifts to those of the Fae
Who bless our homes on this first of May.
We prepare for the bounty; it's on its way.
With Midsummer next, warmth is here to stay.
(April 14, 2001)
LITHA
The sun is highest at the stroke of noon
On this Summer Solstice day at the end of June.
With solar crosses and suns in sight,
We celebrate the peak of our Lord's light.
Pagans gather for circles and games
To dance around great bonfire flames.
We sing and tell stories of long ago
And dry these herbs of vervain and yarrow.
The Oak and Holly Kings battle to rule;
The Holly King will prevail until Yule.
This is High Summer, the Sabbat of the sun
Mother Goddess and Father God are One.
Tomorrow the sun will come up later in the East
To usher in the season of the Goddess's feast.
From this day forward the God will wane
Until His sacrifice of Lammas harvest grain.
(June 11, 2001)
The harvest has come in the waning year.
High Summer is past; Autumn is here.
Under the lingering heat by blackberry thorn
We bring in the wheat, honeydew, and corn.
Demeter has come with Her cornucopia yield
From farmer's land, wild forest, and field.
The sacrificial God has made His last stand
For today He is sown and taken from the land.
We thank Him for willing drawing His last breath,
But too soon we mourn -- Samhain's His death.
We eat this bread -- the body of our Lord
And drink this wine -- His blood we poured.
Please join us all -- woman, man, and beast
For this is the hour of our first Autumn feast.
The days are growing short in the fading light
Until Mabon comes with equal day and night.
(July 9, 2001)
MABON
Equal day, equal night --
The warm wind dies out with the light.
Apple orchards in fruitful glow --
"Autumn's in," the fairies blow.
Let's rake the leaves as pumpkins grow
And walk the fields where farmers sow
The last fruit harvest before the flight
Of birds towards the south -- out of sight!
The strutting turkey, the dancing pheasant
Sing of summer days so warm and pleasant.
Icy chill like a boline slices the air
To usher out the warmth of summer's fair.
However, the days of cold and winter ahead
Should not be felt as a time of dread,
For tonight reflect on the past years seen
That begin anew each night of Samhain!
(September 21, 2000)
BAST
Regal, precious, aloof
The goddess of cats sits undisturbed
Her black body carved of stone
Her eyes dark pools of ancient wisdom
She smiles, a mystery
As inscrutable as the feline of today
As unknowable as the mind of a woman
Can you understand bast?
Her eyes watch me as I move
Past the past of simpler times
When woman and cat were worshipped
She is full of contradiction
Honest, forthright
Yet crafty, surreptitious, and conniving
Her delicate smile hides a fire
Yet her haughty pose shadows a vulnerability
Within her mummified charisma
Lies a heart thousands of years old
Still beating, still strong
Still laughing at the men who look upon her
(May 10, 1999)
Lady Brighid, I am in awe of Your royalty
--
Serenity expressed in Your countenance,
A Queen in Your comely grace,
Opening Your arms with Perfect Love
And Perfect Trust to those who are worthy.
The creatures of the wood bow to You
And Pagans light candles and say prayers in Your honor
And even Christians move aside for Your passing.
An admirable, regal Lady
Yet common in Your midwifery and musing, poetic soul
Willing to deliver Your Pagan and Christian children
Into Your bright world.
A Maiden, a Mother, a willing Lover --
Hardly a breeze stirs in the light
When Your skirts rustle with Your loving spirit
And Your gentle hands touch my turned cheek.
(February 25, 2000)
America, stand up proud
Even though you have been violated
By those who do not understand your strength
And harbor jealousy for your freedom.
You still hold your head high
With your colors red, white, and blue,
And the world stands with you
On this day when you are in need.
Goddess bless America,
Though some would try to crush you.
The Lady still loves your people --
Every Christian, Muslim, and Pagan.
She weeps for those who have died
For the greatest gift you have bestowed
Which is freedom for all --
To worship as we wish,
Love who we want to love,
And feel safe to be who we want to be.
Goddess bless America,
Though the skies have turned black with smoke,
And a sudden silence fills the hearts
Of those gone on due to the acts of hatred.
She will remember them always,
Those who have gone on to Summerland,
And She will take them back into Her bosom.
Do not think they have died in vain,
For many have died before in the name of America
So those who come after may raise the flag
And say, "Goddess bless America."
America, stand up proud
And remember your Mother.
Let you be washed by Her tears
And be comforted in the love of Her arms.
Goddess bless you, children of freedom.
(September 13, 2001)
In loving memory of those souls lost on September 11, 2001.
I remember the sweet,
wet scent of rotting autumn leaves
Of frosty breath curling like heatless smoke in the gentle, cold
rain
Children find joy in gathering candy from strangers on mystical
nights
Pumpkins and corn are on every porch in shades of gold and orange
Days become gray and shorter and nights become colder and blacker
And then they moved on…
Mornings are lip-chapping with frost turning dead plants brittle
And clear days are devoid of the heat they show but never give
Nights are silent with diamond dust of blowing snow
And caps of lace cover the colored lights on insulated homes
Warmth is only a closed-door away
And then they moved on…
From the pall of white from a dead land
A sprout emerges like a butterfly from its entombment
Blossoms of pure sunshine expand and smile
While a scent of thaw moves with the pressing wind
Life stirs as if from an extended rest
And then they moved on…
Honeysuckle and onion on thick, hot air
Through brief summer nights of winking stars the young tree leaves
have become leathery and marred with insect feedings
There are songs coming from every corner of the night
And while the cicada sings his final song
The sun rises a minute later the next day as a wind turns from
the North
And then they moved on…
(March 19, 2001)
"I am the Goddess" - Erica Mueller (inspiration from Thunder: Perfect Mind)
I am that which grows, and I am that which
fades.
I am the Wheel of Life which turns with time.
I am the roaring tiger, and I am the passive fawn.
I am the tender flower, and I am the destructive tornado.
I am the broad ocean, and I am the lapping stream.
I am the open plains, and I am the towering mountains.
I am the Drought, and I am the Monsoon.
I am the Earth which is both Cornucopia and Grave.
I am the Moon which brightens and darkens.
I am the cry of a newborn infant, and I am the wail of the dying.
I am the Promiscuous, and I am the Chaste.
I am the Crone, and I am the Maiden.
I am the Mother, and I am the Child.
I am the One who is Barren, and I am the One who is Fruitful.
I am the Devoted Wife, and I am the Solitary Woman.
I am the Perverted, and I am the Sacred One.
I am Life, and I am Death.
I am the Killer, and I am the Healer.
I am the Hideous Hag, and I am the Comely Lady.
I am the Naked, and I am the Veiled One.
I am the Lover, and I am the Virgin.
I am the Goddess of Old, and I am the Pagan Goddess of today.
I am the One who is feared, and I am the One who is loved.
I am that which is forever.
I am that which is timeless.
I am that which was forgotten until now.
The glory of Your light at Your time of full
Shines it love into my soul and heart
Let me in Your presence to feel Your pull
Until Your waning signals we must part
Mother Moon, guide of woman and tide
As a giver of life, let me feel my worth
Forever be near me at my side
As I journey into the unknown on earth
The crescent moon lies nestled
Like a sleeping woman waiting for her lover
Her cloak of blue hides nothing
The midnight breeze reminds me of him
A loving whisper of nights spent in ecstasy
And I have to smile
For he is watching me now as I speak
Of ancient pagan ways being reborn
The moon, a lady without shame or fear
Of what touches the soul also touches the body
And I can hear and feel
The warm embrace of summertime night
Of joy unruined by the skeptics and ignorants
On a bed of love, bodies lay entwined
Like the arms of ivy and the fingers of vine
The night grows old as I arch to greet
The youthful sun's warm hands
As two bodies join and merge to meet
(March 20, 2000)
The moon sighs and moves in frozen friction
And tethers me to the sky and night-blooming world
Her face blinds me, yet she is all I see
When I wait, summoned, for my placement in this life
I am broken without her, my direction is neither north nor south
When her silent face darkens to a non-existence
I can neither see myself nor the world around me
I am more real with her in my sight than any brilliant sun
Or any being either earth-bound or celestial
When she rises in the East I rise with her
in love
A friendly mother, sister, lover, and beacon
When she sets in the West I cry and mourn her descent
As my emotion goes down with her, in tides of life and death
As she waxes, my energy and soul wax with her
A time of creation, ambition, and joy
As she wanes, I reflect and meditate with her
A time of solitude, withdrawal, and silence
But if I close my eyes for a moment
Even when the sun glows at mid-day
I can picture myself on the side of a gentle hill
Looking up at her full, white face in the black sheet
And I am no longer broken
For her face always smiles down upon me
And reaches out to me like a mother to comfort her child
(September 3, 2001)
THE LIONESS OF MORA,
LEGEND OF SASHA
The Cladians and Morans had been in a state of cold war for a thousand years, splitting the planet of Corath in half with the Goddess-worshipping Morans to the North, and the patriarchal war-loving Cladians to the South. With the reign of an evil kingdom ruling Clade, more and more Moran women were abducted from their homes in Mora to become the slaves of the royals of Clade.
Only one woman could stop them, a woman of divine birth named Sasha. Her fate lead her from the small village where she was born, to be taught the ways of a priestess, to the castle of Polara where she became Queen Polara's defender and champion -- the Lioness of Mora. As she rose through the ranks of commoner to the highest position in all of Mora -- the warrior-priests and priestesses the Horacians, she has to pass the ultimate test. Can she keep from destroying herself in order to end the horrors her sisters have had to face for so many years, and is the price to her own soul worth betraying a man she falls in love with against her will?
This story is filled with Pagan imagery and rituals, with an added twist of fantasy and moral questions and justice. Can we all see ourselves in Sasha?