Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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The Moon by Day

I ran into the goddess yesterday. At the farmers' market, no less.

You know how it feels when you suddenly see the face of a friend in an unexpected place? The surprise, the delight?

That's just what it was like.

Heading back to the car with my bags of baby beets, new peas, and the season's first daikons, I looked up and lo! there she was, low in the southwestern sky.

The Moon, approaching her setting, now in the 21st day of her lunation: sun-washed and pale as a cloud.

But no cloud she. Oh no.

The Moon surprises us. We think of her as Lady of Night, but the night cannot contain her. She wanders at will wheresoever she please, ruled by her own inner life. The all-seeing Sun sees what is done by day, but the wandering Moon knows the secrets of both day and night.

So I did what you do: I stopped and tipped my hat. I blew her a kiss.

And then went back to the car with my bags, and a hymn on my lips.

And isn't that just pagan life, with gods all over?

And you, never knowing just Who you may run into next.

Or where.

 



 

http://witchesandpagans.com/pagan-culture-blogs/paganistan/the-wayward-daughter.html

 

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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

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