I will be away for about a week as Bren and I are off to Kaleidoscope Gathering. Bren has a couple of workshops, a ritual drama to run and a concert and i am also involved in a couple of workshops. Plus there’s volunteering and vending to be done!

Crash the dog will be coming with us as part of a pilot project for allowing dogs at the fest. So please folks, don’t pet the dogs without permission and keep your puppies on leash

We will be bringing our recording device for the podcast with us and hope to get lots of content for the podcast.

I won’t be around to post on the forum but moderators will be lurking. People are always so well behaved at the Wild Geek Hang anyways!

In the mean time, here are some articles, essays, blog posts and even videos worth checking out:

Channeling Deity vs. Regressive Trance

Archaeologists have discovered a second henge at Stonehenge

Land Spirits, Ancestors and Gods, Oh My!

Practice Practice Practice Daily or Regularly

When The Drummers Were Women

Sacred Weeds

An American Witch Bottle

HedgeCrossing

Care for the caregivers

The Private Life of Plants

Zen: The Best of Alan Watts

Pagan Roots in the West

They meet at the appointed place and time

And greet each other warmly with a smile

Up the hill and into the woods they climb

Down winding trails they walk in single file

*

Passing under maple trees, oaks and birches

Entering a hawthorn grove they slowed

Where three paths meet stood three witches

And prepared for a ritual at the crossroad

*

With candles carefully lit they begin the rite

Tentatively they start to drum and chant

Voices raised in celebration well into the night

With gratitude for gifts the gods do grant

*

Then the lights go out and into darkness they gaze

Quietly they call to the spirits and then they lay

The forest turns into a dark and ghostly haze

Witches whisper with delight and watch the fae

*

Prayers are said and magick spoken

But soon its time to pack up and head home

Offerings given as some small token

Three witches always sisters wherever they roam

It’s Still Pagan

*

To the tune of “Its still Rock  n’ Roll” By Billy Joel

*

What’s the matter with the robes I’m wearing?

“Can’t you tell that your cord’s too wide?”

Maybe I should buy a hooded cloak

Like back in the burning times

Where have you been in the broom closet honey?

“You can’t dress witchy ’till you spend a lot of money”

*

Everybody’s talking about the new Path

Funny, but its still NeoPagan to me

*

What’s the matter with the broom I’m riding?

“Can’t you tell that it’s out of style?”

Should I get a store bought besom?

“Are ready for us to laugh and smile?

Nowadays, you can’t be too traditional

Your best bet’s besom made exactly the way we tell ya”

*

Dark Goth, Light Fluff – even if it’s old junk

It’s still NeoPagan to me

*

Oh, it doesn’t matter what they say in the Circle

‘Cause it’s always been the same old scene

There’s a new Grove in town, but you can’t get the word

From a story in a magazine

Aimed at your average teen

*

How about a pair of pentacle tattoos

And a dress from the renaissance?

“Well, you could really be Selena Fox, baby

If you would just paint it all black

Don’t waste your money on a shiny new cauldron

You get more mileage from a cheap-o pot”

*

New Age, Faery, Wicca craze

Anyways, it’s still NeoPagan to me

*

What’s the matter with Coven I’m joining?

“Can’t you tell that they’re out of touch?”

Should I try to be a solitary Pagan?

“If you are, then you think too much

Don’t you know about the new Wicca, honey?

All you need are books and a whole lotta money”

*

It’s the next thing, Heathen, Druid, Celtic

Anyways, it’s still NeoPagan to me

Everybody’s talking about the new Path

Funny, but its still NeoPagan to me

*

By Juniper 2006

How can finding the right thing to say

Be so simple?

Words drip from their lips

Like flawless pearls

My mouth is full of marbles

The right thing to do

Seems as bright and clear as day

As they move gracefully

And with an inborn ease

While I stammer and stumble with each step

The right thing to wear and the perfect hair

Adorn their elegant bodies

Complimenting style and finesse

Eyebrows delicately raised in response

To my failed attempts at dignity

Did they have mothers

Who were just as refined?

Who taught them manners and propriety

Until it became as natural as breathing?

I cannot help but wonder

If only I had a mother capable of tact

Would I socialize with such

Utter nimbleness?

Intelligent conversation

Sails past my ears

Their words never take a wrong turn

As I struggle not to misspeak

To not interrupt or repeat

Mindless pleasantries surround me

I struggle to maintain a smile

Grateful that they deign

To tolerate my ineptness

At least for a little while

Then I take that inevitable misstep

Exposing my clumsiness

I cringe and shudder

As they cluck their tongues

Gossip behind my broken back

Speak over my bowed head

And assume only the worst intent

Silent tears slip unempathized

Down my burning cheeks

As I silently wish I had just half

Of their shine and polish

Excuse me please

Which way to the can?

I think I am about to have an anxiety attack