PaganSquare


PaganSquare is a community blog space where Pagans can discuss topics relevant to the life and spiritual practice of all Pagans.

  • Home
    Home This is where you can find all the blog posts throughout the site.
  • Tags
    Tags Displays a list of tags that have been used in the blog.
  • Bloggers
    Bloggers Search for your favorite blogger from this site.
  • Login
    Login Login form
Subscribe to this list via RSS Blog posts tagged in poems

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

We have come from beyond the garden,b2ap3_thumbnail_ooak-meditation-goddess-in-the-surprise-lily.jpg
stories both old and new in our hands.
Our breasts are bare our hips are heavy,
and we are willing to show  our incisors.
Centuries of silencing and suppression
have been unable to stick to our skins,
our lapis beads rest easy across our throats,
and red crescent moons shine upon our brows.
No longer willing to settle for giving birth
to demons or destroyers,
we bleed all over the pages  of history,
eat all the apples we please,
carve stone into shapes that tell our hearts
to remember,
and sing of the forgotten things,
untamed, unbound.
Our most reliable sacred text
is the one we write each day,
shard by shard,
step by step,
bone by bone,
breath by breath,
side by side. 

Priestessing during a pandemic has not been easy! The past nearly two years have forced a serious assessment of where I currently am in my work and my willingness to offer what I can offer and to withdraw from what I cannot.

After careful consideration, I have been working in person with a very small group this summer every week, using the Lilith Circle Guide that accompanies the anthology Original Resistance. While I do not feel ready to branch back out into larger, more public group work again, it has been a really nourishing and rewarding experience to gather in a very small group. I encourage you to consider ways in which you might set your feet to the spiral once more and to reach back out to your own community in face-to-face connection with a circle that feels nurturing, safe, and enriching to you.
b2ap3_thumbnail_Beyond-the-Garden-Card.png
Last modified on

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

Sometimes you may feel dull

and worn,

...
Last modified on
Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Jamie
    Jamie says #
    Molly, Thanks for sharing! It succeeds both as poetry and self-help literature. The imagery is beautiful and worth pondering.
  • Molly
    Molly says #
    Thank you! Glad you liked it!

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

Don’t mind me,

I’m out getting lost

...
Last modified on
Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Jamie
    Jamie says #
    Molly, Loved the poem! Thanks for sharing the "May Magic" prayerbook with us, great stuff as always.
  • Molly
    Molly says #
    Thank you so much! I didn't see your comment until today.

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

It was mist this morning
that lured me away,

May be an image of naturestraight out of bed and into the trees
to see the glow lifting
from the valley and sliding through
the rising sun,
particles of water vapor
drifting sideways through the air
so that it looks like the woods
are breathing.
I almost think I hear the fairies
of the land whispering
as the rays of sunshine
lay down enchanted paths
between tree trunks,
unmapped lines of discovery
that are only revealed
with the light is just so
and a crow zips silently by
carrying something mysterious
in its beak.
I see why we are warned about the mist,
pathways that are shrouded and uncertain.
After all, if you step into the mist
how will you know
what to buy or what to feel
bad about.
How can anyone capture
and sell your attention
if you’ve reclaimed it
and let it settle into the mist
instead of into a screen.
If you are focused
instead of fractured,
if you are no longer listening
to how it has to be,
or what to think,
or where to look,
or what to buy,
perhaps it is you
who becomes dangerous,
free as you now are
to slip away
into the mist,
into the real and pulsing
world,
breath from cedar trunks
rising up to meet you
where you are. 

Last modified on
Recent Comments - Show all comments
  • Jamie
    Jamie says #
    Molly, Solid gold! That poem makes you a dangerous rebel, in all the right ways.
  • Molly
    Molly says #
    Thank you so much!

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

I carried lemon balm
and sweet almond oil with me
into the woods
and sat on a stone.

May be an image of natureI saw three vultures rising and falling
wheeling and whirling
gracefully above the valley
and a single black crow zip busily
along the horizon
as its kin called raucously
from unseen trees.
A neat triangle of nine geese
passed above my head,
close enough for a change
to hear the rhythmic sounds
of their wings moving the air
as they passed me by.
I encircled myself with lemon balm,
scattering it loosely
on the leaves around my rock.
I anointed my body with sweet drops
of scented oil
and whispered some wishes to the wind.
These, my own spontaneous
and solitary
rites of spring.
Suddenly, the slowly coasting vultures
changed course
and angled across the blue sky above me.
I felt the shadows of their long wings
gently cross me
as I sat silent in my circle
and felt tears rise into my eyes
and laughter rise to my lips
at the exact same moment
as I recognized the feeling
of Persephone’s return. 

Last modified on

Posted by on in SageWoman Blogs

If I were naming the moons,
August would be
the Mushroom Moon,b2ap3_thumbnail_116721655_2720505291495009_3608339146132803919_o.jpg
honoring the things that wait
below the surface
for the right moment to emerge,
the invisible magic beneath our feet,
the wisdom of hidden places,
the quiet mists
that rise from cool water
into steamy evenings
beneath thunderous skies
and cicada song.
It speaks of the deepening
and the steeping,
the shy and the creeping,
the unexpected lessons
of loam and longing,
the vast and stubborn network
of all that is unseen,
the sky that sings
and hopes with wings,
and wide, round mysteries
on the rise.

Last modified on

In my dream,
the Summer Queen
is wrapped in summer’s fire,b2ap3_thumbnail_107548174_2700137346865137_2706254459724466380_o.jpg
garbed in gowns of gold and brown,
and blazing with desire,
the grass and grains
are winding down,
leaning in ebbing spires.
She feels the heat beneath her feet,
her stride is wide,
her lips are sweet,
her arms lift up to lightning streaks.
She twirls around on thirsty ground
raising the passions higher.
With hips and hopes expanding wide
her heart alight with joy and pride
her song is strong,
her howls are long,
her many prayers are hot and bold
and then her plans
find ease at last
remembering the wheel spins fast
it’s nearly time to share the floor,
as Autumn’s Queen
peeks round
the door.


In August, I feel held in a space between summer’s fire and summer’s fatigue. There has been a blooming and a ripening, and now a harvesting and a fading begin as the time comes to turn the page.

...
Last modified on

Additional information