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.
Goddess Rising
One day the Goddess went away.
The Moon wanes away into darkness. The seed goes down into the soil. Summer descends into Winter.
Each Spring, we too descend. Into the Underworld we go. We seek Her, we find Her, and we bring Her back.
There was a time in history when it seemed that the Goddess had gone away.
So we descended into the Underworld. We sought Her, we found Her, and we brought Her back.
We all from time to time descend into Underworlds of our own.
There we seek and we find. And we bring ourselves back.
It's our story. It's the year's story. It's history's story.
She rises.
Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain:
wheat that in the deep Earth many days hath lain.
Love lives again, that with the dead hath been:
love is come again, like wheat that springeth green.
Comments
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Sunday, 07 August 2016Very beautiful. As someone who reveres and adores Persephone, this speaks to my heart. Thank you!
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Beautiful.