Bardic Circle
Essays, Poetry, Stories and More…
Redemption Song
If I could play any song, on any instrument, anywhere at all in front of anyone, and play it perfectly … I would …
Play that Christmas Bell song on a xylophone on Mars watching the sunrise over the giant red face the aliens left us.
Or it would be playing “Redemption Song” on guitar in Madison Square Garden in front of all the world leaders on one side, and as many of my friends, family, hippies and Pagans I can cram into the other side.
Oh yes.
Redemption Song
Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the ‘and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won’t you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
‘Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
‘Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfill… Continue reading →
Celebrate all of Creation
You don’t have to climb mountains
Go through complicated rituals
Or follow some guru around
All you have to do
Is accept that you are part of god
And god is part of you
Failures, mistakes and fuck ups included
To honor the Creator
Celebrate all of Creation
Look around you
The air moves, the trees grow
Cells divide, suns are born
solar systems spin, ants march
animals die, leaves fall
fruit rots, lava flows
You breathe
Everything is always going
Doing, moving, flowing, growing, and changing
Do you really expect all this to suddenly stop and be still and calm and peaceful
Just because you have decided to meditate for thirty minutes?
Do you really expect a spiritual experience to always be a kind of stillness?
You cannot blank your mind
Or stop the growth of your Self
Any more than you could stop the wind
They are all parts of the same Whole
Just be
Breathe with the land
Love what you love
Celebrate all of Creation
Including yourself
A Pagan Cheer
I need pompoms and pigtails!
Grow Paganism!
Grow Paganism
Grow Witchcraft
Grow grow grow grow!
Turn Covens into Communities
Fam Trad into Clan Trad
Buy up whole city blocks
And turn them green
Show the whole damned world
That when we say Witch
This is what we mean!
Juniper
Along the Crooked Path
Along the Crooked Path
Along the crooked path we walk
Harmonizing with birdsong as we talk
We wander along a sun-dappled path
Through forests’ edge to meadows ahead
Summer’s sweet kiss gives warmth to the land
My steps now guided by a nice young lad
His lass bore a child before they wed
This the town folk would not understand
Beside my cottage now a cabin stands
He says he wants to be a conjure man
The garden blossoms as our family grows
All the herbs have been hung and dried
Horse and cow in the barn by the shed
I shall tell the children a story tonight
As they tuck into bed with the moonrise
I steal away and into the night
My heart and hands reach up high
I sing a song of sorrow and joy
Though my hearth now brims with love
The craft I work is still a road for one
Along the crooked path I walk
~ By Juniper 2009
RePost: The Crooked Path
Because its my blog and I’ll post what I want to. Also because I have received requests to write a sequel so it is on my mind. What shall happen to our heroine?
The Crooked Path
Alone I walk the crooked path
A heavy basket upon my back
Through moonlit groves to home at last
Guided by dimming stars above my head
Through the valley and around the bend
With eager eyes do I see the gate ahead
Behind me lays the farmer’s hedge
Beyond the hill does my cottage stand
Away from village lights and prying eyes
I work a craft they cannot understand
My garden beckons while my dog does growl
Heavy basket goes into potting shed
Herbs to be hung with morning light
It is the stew pot that I seek tonight
Dog gets fed and cow is checked
I lay me down upon a lonely bed
I dare to dream of a village-life lived
With a family and a loving husband
But the life I lead is a road for one
In a creaking home blasted with cold drafts
Alone I walk the crooked path
~ by Juniper 2008
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