|In the cool of the evening, they used to gather,
'Neath the stars in the meadow
Circling that old oak tree.
At the times appointed,
By the seasons of the earth,
And the phases of the moon.
In the center, stood a woman,
Equal with the others and respected for her worth,
One of the many we call the witches,
The healers and the teachers of the wisdom of the earth.
And the people who grew through the knowledge she gave them.
Herbs to heal their bodies,
Spells to make their spirits whole.
Can't you hear them chanting, healing incantations,
Calling forth the wise ones,
Celebrating in dance and song.
Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter; Kali, Innana.
There were those who came to power, through domination,
And they were bonded in their worship of a dead man on a cross.
They sought control of the common people,
By demanding allegiance to the church of Rome.
And the Pope declared, an inquisition,
It was a war against the women, whose power they feared.
In the holocaust against the nature people,
Nine million European women died.
And the tale is told of those, who by the hundreds,
Holding together chose their death in the sea,
While chanting the praises of the Mother Goddess,
A refusal of betrayal, women were dying to be free.
Now the Earth is a witch, and the men still burn her,
Stripping her down with mining, and the poison of their wars.
Still to us the Earth is a healer, a teacher, a mother,
The weaver of a web of life that keeps us all alive.
She gives us the vision to see through the chaos,
She gives us the courage, it is our will to survive.