A Pagan Library

A Pagan Library
Inspiring and thoughtful readings and poems gathered throughout my years...

All of these little bits of wisdom (some perhaps more wise than others :o) I have gathered during my study. I've placed them in an easy-to-read font for your convienience. The fist two are highly reccommended -- truly wise.

Unencumbered Ritual

Walk as Tall as the Trees

The Velvet Arms of Night

To Be a Witch...

Thoughts on Withcraft... an email from my old mailing list

Pathways...

DESIDERATA

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,

be on good terms will all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;

and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant,

they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,

they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,

you may become vain and bitter,

for always there will be greater

and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;

it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs;

for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals;

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection.

Neither be cynical about love,

for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment

it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years.

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,

no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God,

whatever you conceive Him to be,

and whatever your labors and aspirations,

in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Back to top

Unencumbered Ritual
by Barbara Ardinger

You can make it a really big deal. You can do research in a dozen authoritative books. Build or buy a twelve-foot-tall Goddess. Set up and decorate four altars with pomp and ceremony, using the prescribed symbols for the four directions and properly sanctified altar implements. Light beeswax candles in the proper colors and anointed with the proper sacred oils. Burn specially prepared incense. Plan, write, and rehearse the scripted invocations, chants, and music. Hire a dozen drummers and flutists. Choreograph the casting of the circle with the proper pentacles drawn with sword or wand or broom. Coordinate your ritual with the phase of the moon, the movements of the planets, the time of day, the day of the week, and the season of the year. Create spectacular robes and costumes, masks and jewelry for all participants. Find a mind-blowing location with privacy, a spectacular view, growing trees, blooming flowers, and perhaps a mountain in the background. Invite two hundred of your closest friends.

It takes a lot of work to pull off a really great ritual that pulls in genuine power, and it's truly worth every bit of work you do. It can change your life. We solitaries, however, worship alone most of the time. Our rituals are more likely to be the tiny ones that we create on the spot to celebrate a private achievement or to ask for help. We light a candle, perhaps, chant or talk to a goddess, do a brief meditation, or just sit quietly for a few minutes.

The latter is what I call unencumbered ritual. It's not big. It's not fancy. It doesn't necessarily follow the traditional rules and it seldom requires hardware or props. To High-Church Witches, it may not even look like a real ritual. But it works. It's repeatable and it alters your consciousness. It's very personal, and the emotional content is fully satisfying. The little rituals we've already done in this book were unencumbered rituals. ["A Ritual of Personal Power" was one of them. I'll be posting a few more soon.]

Remember - most simply defined, a ritual is a repeatable, and often repeated, working that has a specific meaning and a specific intention. The actions or the words (or both) serve to put each person participating in the ritual into an altered state of consciousness, which may be worshipful or experimental or playful. The altered state of consciousness gets us in touch with invisible powers, which may be intrinsic (our untapped imagination and unfertilized creativity) or extrinsic. It is these powers with whom we work our magic.

In its secular sense of habitual action, a ritual can be your customary morning routine and include all the little informal ceremonies you create to start and bless your day and make it work better, such as always using a special cup for your coffee or tea, arranging your workspace just so, doing little customary things before you really get to work. But it's always good to begin our day with an acknowledgment of the sacred dimension. I have a friend who faces the sunrise and drinks an intentional glass of water every morning to honor Gaia and Her watery daughter goddesses.

With ritual intention, we can make all the ordinary parts of our lives beautiful and sacred, like setting fresh flowers on the table or desk, unpacking and washing Grandma's dishes for Thanksgiving, or helping our children prepare for their first day of school or graduation (major rituals in themselves). The repeatability and predictability of our little unencumbered rituals add a bit of security to our ages of chaos. Our rituals can bring us comfort or inspiration. They can link us to the past and help us prepare for the future by making today more meaningful.

We can do our unencumbered rituals alone or with friends to celebrate the full and new moons, to empower a special project (as I did when I began work on this book), to beckon love or money into our lives, to celebrate a friend's good fortune, or to bless a new home. Any occasion is an occasion for ritual.

Back to top

Walk As Tall As The Trees

Walk As Tall As The Trees,
As Strong As The Mountains.
Be As Gentle As The Spring Winds,
And The Great Spirit Will Be With You Always!

Back to top

Creativity

I weave strings of energy
into the web of creation
Where nothing was before
out of the void
into the world
I spin them into existence
Out from my mind
out from my body
out of my awareness of what needs to be
Now there is something new
and all life is nourished

Back to top

The Velvet Arms of the Night

The Velvet Arms Of The Night Are Reaching Out To Hold Me
And The Stars Are Calling To Come Dance Among Them
So I Will Spread My Wings And Fly High Til The Mornings Light

Author: Jeny Wren

Aradia's Star

Aradia had a little star
she wore it with great pride.
It made her feel so close to "SHE"
and made her warm inside.
It was tucked beneath her shirt
to keep it from "their" view.
Her faith was something she must
hide...
cuz, "if they only knew!"

The burnings ended long ago.
or so you might have thought.
the practice must be kept from sight
so one must not be caught.

Modern days the vandals strike
the career can be forgotten
the children of a Pagan
can be lonesome, woe begotten.

The oldest ways have always been
and will always be.
Long before the Christian faith
has been, forever, "SHE"

Our lifestyle is so simple
and so misunderstood.
The others act as if they are
the ones that are so "good!"

They push their hell upon us all
it was not of our making.
The Satan that they say we love?
is not OUR undertaking.

In reality the fundies try
to keep us at a distance.
Their fear and ignorance of us
can only stir resistance.

We voted long and campaigned too
to keep their influence away.
So that our children might one day
in public; circle, chant and pray.

Our open rites and ritual
is frightening to some....
we hope and pray the Christian
"work"
could somehow be undone.

If they can live their life of faith
and similarly we.....
we'll embrace our Christian
brothers...
Merry Part and..Blessed Be!!!

Back to top

Trees

Trees are poems that the earth writes
upon the sky. We fell them down and
turn them into paper that we may record
our emptiness.

First Yule

Once upon a time, long long ago, a beautiful young woman lived on a blue and
green island. She had many friends on the island, fairies, trees, flowers,
rabbits, deer and birds ... but she was the only person who lived there.

She wanted to share her friends and her secrets with other people just like
her, so she began to give birth. Every month when the moon was hiding, she
gave birth. For the first six months, she gave birth to daughters with dark
skin and eyes. For the last six moons of the year she gave birth to fair
skinned daughters. On the seventh moon of every year the First Mother gave
birth to a magickal, sacred oak.

As the years turned, many many daughters were born, and quite a few oak
trees as well. The daughters played games with the animals and each other,
they climbed in the branches of the oak trees and gathered flowers with the
fairies.

One day the first born daughter of the First Mother gave birth herself. The First Mother was very proud and happy, her favorite friend Oak
Tree (who was very wise) gave her a silver crown to wear and told her that
she was now a Grandmother.

Soon many of the daughters gave birth, and the island became an even happier
place, full of babies and big girls and mommies who all played together with
the animals, the trees and the fairies.

One winter night when the moon was hiding, one of the daughters gave birth
to a baby that was different from anything they had ever known. It was not a
daughter, it was not even an oak tree, it was a baby BOY!

It was a very dark cold night, the longest winter's night of the year, so
all the daughters and all the animals were snuggled up together to keep cozy
and warm. After their excitement of seeing a brand new baby born passed, the
daughters and the animals realized that the baby boy was not feeling well.
He was not as strong or as warm as the babies and trees that were usually
born on the island.

They all began to worry about the new baby, and tried to help keep him warm.
The animals with the furriest coats pushed up close to the mother and baby,
the fairies sprinkled magick dust above him, and the little girls sang
wonderful songs and danced around and around the room.

But the baby boy couldn't get warm enough and soon he was too cold and tired
even to cry or to drink the healing milk from his mother.

The First Grandmother was so afraid for the baby boy. She tried to hide her
tears from her daughters and ran out into the forest. The snow was very deep
and full of white glitter. She tried to walk but it was just too deep. So
her friend the owl carried her up above the snow filled clouds deep into the
magick forest where her firstborn, most sacred wise friend
Oak, lived. The First Grandmother intended to ask Her friend for advise
about the baby boy.

When the owl reached the clearing where the sacred First Oak tree lived, the
Grandmother gasped! There was no snow on the ground there, and in the middle
of a perfect circle lay her friend the Oak. The tree had Fallen to the
ground and broken into a pile of logs and branches. She rushed to kneel
beside the broken tree, and her teardrops turned into sparkling icicles on
her cheeks.

While she was trying to understand what had happened to her dear friend, a
coyote entered the circle and brushed up beside her. First the coyote kissed
her tears dry, and then whispered a secret in the First Grandmother's ear.

The Grandmother nodded, and with the help of the coyote and the owl, she
gathered some of the branches from her oldest friend Oak and they returned
to her daughter and the baby boy.

Using the gifts from the Oak, and the secrets from the coyote, the
Grandmother built the very first fire that anyone on the blue and green
island had ever seen.

The fairies were shocked, they had never seen anything dance like that
without wings. The animals laughed, they had never seen colors so bright exc
ept on springtime flowers. The daughters didn't know WHAT to do, they had
never felt anything as warm as the summer sand on the beach in the
middle of winter.

The mother brought the baby boy close to the edge of the fire, closer than
everyone else (they were still just a little bit scared of this new thing
called fire). The baby boy opened his eyes just a little bit, and began to
wiggle his fingers. Then he smiled and moved his toes too.

When he was warm enough, he snuggled with his Mother and drank her milk.
Soon everyone was certain the baby boy would be okay. They were all so
happy, they danced around the fire singing their favorite special songs and
giving little gifts to the fire.

The baby boy grew up strong and happy because of the gift of the First Oak
Tree. He had many sons of his own, and taught them all to plant acorns on
the seventh dark moon of the year so that there would always be many, many
oak trees on the island.

Every winter, on the longest coldest darkest night of the year, all the
people who lived on the blue and green island built a very special fire.

They brought in a special tree and honored it with shiny ornaments and
glittery fairy dust. They picked one very special branch or log and sang
their favorite songs while they decorated it. Then they would give this
beautiful log to the fire as a present...and all the children would hear the
story of the gift of the First Oak tree.

On the longest night of the year, whenever you light a candle or build a
fire, remember the story of the First Grandmother and the coyote who told
her the secret. No matter how cold and dark it seems, The Sun will always be
reborn and bring us warmth and light again.

--Author Unknown

Back to top

Responsibility

I am a Warrioress
a Warrioress of the Heart
I am a Queen
of the domain of myself
I am able to respond
in all situations
from the knowledge of who I am
My actions are who I am
My beliefs are who I am
All I do is who I am
That which is outside of me
stays outside of me
That which I choose to let in
I own and acknowledge
How can you be responsible
if you do not own all aspects of yourself?
How can you be accountable
without being Queen over your own domain?
How can you serve your consort, your children, your community
if you are unwilling to acknowledge and answer for yourself?

Back to top

To be a Witch...

To be a witch is to love and be loved.
To be a witch is to know everything, and nothing at all.
To be a witch is to move amongst the stars while staying on earth.
To be a witch is to change the world around you, and yourself.
To be a witch is to share and give, while receiving all the while.
To be a witch is to dance and sing, and hold hands with the universe.
To be a witch is to honour the gods, and yourself.
To be a witch is to BE magick, not just perform it.
To be a witch is to be honourable, or nothing at all.
To be a witch is to accept others who are not.
To be a witch is to know what you feel is right and good.
To be a witch is to harm none.
To be a witch is to know the ways of old.
To be a witch is to see beyond the barriers.
To be a witch is to follow the moon.
To be a witch is to be one with the gods.
To be a witch is to study and to learn.
To be a witch is to be the teacher and the student.
To be a witch is to acknowledge the truth.
To be a witch is to live with the earth, not just on it.
To be a witch is to be truly free!

Ziller

Back to top

Goals

1. Know yourself
2. Know your craft
3. Learn
4. Apply knowledge with wisdom
5. Achieve balance
6. Keep your words in good order
7. Keep your thoughts in good order
8. Celebrate life
9. Attune with the cycles of the earth
10. Breathe and eat correctly
11. Exercise the body
12. Meditate
13. Honor the goddess and god

Back to top

Thoughts on Witchcraft...

Wicca or Witchcraft is not a 'revealed' religion. We had no prophets who
spoke the words of an all-powerful God to an ignorant and sinful
congregation.

Witches learn Self-respect. The Divine is within you--as You! In ritual
we embody our Gracious Goddess (in many forms) and our Great God (in many
forms). Deity descends or arises into us, when we take on the role of Priest or Priestess.

We don't surrender our personalities to the Gods, but we share our
bodies and minds with Them as our guests and we Their hosts.

We are not sheep, we in the Craft. We know full well what happens when
'sheep' fall under a 'good shepherd'; they get led to the slaughter, or at
least get 'fleeced.'

Thus, our ideal is authentic Self-empowerment, so we need no outside
'laws' of 'morality,' but we are really a 'law unto ourselves.' There is a
danger of megalomania or solipsism in this practice, so it is not something
for those who lack an awareness of themselves as worthy. But, only the
strong can embody and speak from the Gods.

Much of Witchcraft is learning about Power. Power can only be shared, or it is a sham. So, this teaching is always about 'Power shared,' never 'power over.' Real Power doesn't depend on others to be powerless, that would only be fraudulent, phony, not really Power at all, but a deceptive form of great weakness.

We can easily see this in action in politics, religion, academia,
business, family life and the military. It has never given satisfaction in
the past, so why do we still pursue this wraith, a phantom of power,
altogether empty and meaningless and lonely?

These are just a few thoughts about what it means to learn, as the Sages have said from time immemorial, "Seek not without, for the answers all lie
within."

Namast�
~~~~~
Bless�d be, and Peace to all beings...
~~~~~
Robin Goodfellow

Back to Top

PATHWAYS (Author Unknown):
A slightly maudlin, moralistic, but good little story I was sent online:)

Well, it had been yet another bad day in the office, and once again it was the fault of that new girl, MaryAnne.

She is one of those Wiccans, a so-called witch. How can anyone in their right mind make this claim, knowing that it goes against God and all of the teachings of the bible?

She doesn't even have the common decency to keep her satanic symbol, her pentagram necklace hidden from the view of the decent, God-fearing people in the office. She has some nerve. I find that I cannot hate her for this though, for I know that she has been deceived. Satan works his evil in ways that she cannot see.

I've seen that so called Wiccan Rede that she has tacked to the wall above her computer. On the surface, it looks like a decent loving belief, but all one must do is look, look closely and see that by practicing this way, and not embracing Jesus Christ as savior, she is on the pathway to hell.

As I've said, it was a bad day in the office. Three times in the past few weeks I have been called in to see my supervisor, and he has told me that I am not allowed to preach to MaryAnne the word of God, to show her the error of her ways. Today, my supervisor told me that if I continue to "harass" MaryAnne, he would be forced to terminate me. How can he say this? He himself is a God fearing man. And, how can he be so tolerant of the evil that he sees insinuating itself into our workplace?

As I lay down to sleep last night, I asked the Lord for guidance. "God, grant me a true vision of you, so that I may better lead the faithless onto the righteous path,"

"Oh, a true vision of Me is it? Are you sure that you're ready, truly ready to see, my son?"

I sat bolt upright in bed, and there, at the foot of my bed, white of hair and beard, in a long, flowing white robe, stood the Lord my God. I made to leap from the bed and fall to my knees in front of Him, but he stopped me with a gesture. "Kneel not before me at this time my son. Instead, rise and walk with Me, so that you may get a glimpse of what I truly am, as you asked of me in your prayer,"

He took my hand, and as I looked, my bedroom was no longer there, but a pathway thru the woods. We started to walk, and I was too awestruck for words. We took the path to the left, and we were then inside St. Catherine's Church, in the middle of a service. While still standing beside me, God seemed to expand and fill the whole of the church.

I could see smiles of contentment forming on some of the parishioners' faces. I felt blessed. God smiled upon me. "The Catholics hold such pretty masses, don't they? I like to stop here in this church, because not only do they speak the words, but also they live the life, thru teaching, helping the sick and poor, not only with handouts, but helping them learn to help themselves. Now let us walk on,"

And we were back on the pathway. We traveled a bit further along, and then were in the parlor of a funeral home. A young woman was kneeling before the casket, resting her head on it and crying. I could see by the similarity, that this dead man must be her father. God knelt beside her, and drew His arms about her. "Miss him, that is all right, but weep not for him, for now he is with Me".

She wiped her eyes, and stood with a sad smile upon her face, and said "Good-bye Daddy. I'll miss you," and turned and left the room.

And we were back on the pathway. We walked a little ways, and we were in front of a large lodge of some kind. I could hear music and laughter spilling out of the windows. I turned to look at God, and was shocked to see, not the flowing white robe, but Him wearing leather and animal furs, his hair and beard now the color of wheat, and a sword strapped across His back. He strode forth, and I saw him approach a figure I had not seen before. As I looked close, I was shocked to see that it was the same face that I had just seen dead, but looking young and strong, and dressed in ancient looking garb, an ax strapped to his waist.

God strode up to him and grabbed him in a great bear hug. "Welcome my son. We've been waiting for you. Now, go inside and raise a cup or two, and meet with your brother." And, with a hearty slap on the back, he sent the man inside.

And then we were back on the pathway. We walked a bit further, and then we were in a mosque. At least I believed so, as I had never been in one before, but had seen pictures of them. The group of worshippers was not large, but I could see their rapt faces as they listened to the mullah speak. He was speaking to them of purity, both of the mind and the body, bringing them closer to Allah.

And as he spoke, God, dressed now in the robes of the desert, walked among them and briefly laid his hands upon each set of shoulders. And, from their faces, I could see that these men knew that the words of the mullah were true, and that their spirits felt touched by God.

And then we were back on the pathway. After we had walked a bit, we found ourselves in an African village. People with skin as black as night, the women with their breast shamefully bared, were dancing in a circle, to the rhythm of the drums being played by a group of men. Somehow though, the bared breasts did not offend me, and the music seemed to seep into my soul.

God was then a mighty lion, and He let forth a mighty roar. The villagers did not seem to hear, but the drums increased their pounding, and the dancers danced with frenzy.

And then we were back on the pathway. We walked a bit more, and were on the top of a cliff. There sat, painted and covered with feathers, an old Navajo man. As I watched, he seemed to change into the form of an eagle and take flight, and we were flying with him, soaring high into the air, seeing the vista spread out below us.

And God, in the form of an eagle Himself, seemed to guide this other eagle thru the air, over mountains and thru valleys, until he came upon a group of men. As I watched, the old Navajo man was no longer an eagle, but a young boy instead, and he sat at the feet of these men, to listen to the words of his elders.

And then we were back on the pathway. We traveled a bit, and then we were in a forest clearing. I knew this place. It was known as a place of devil worship and evil. In the center of the clearing roared a great bonfire, and kiwi torches outlined a circle of sorts. Inside this circle, in a circle themselves, stood 7 men and 6 women, dressed in robes of varying colors, their arms raised to the moon.

Was that one woman MaryAnne? I really couldn't be sure. And God walked among them in the circle, touching each one. He seemed not to be an older man now, but as he made each of three turns around the circle, he was first a young girl, bouncing with energy, then a woman of middle years, with a tender smile for all Her children, and finally, an old woman, body bent, but holding Her head up with pride. And a woman stepped forward, and yes, it was MaryAnne, and lifted her head to the sky.

"Great Goddess, Mother of us all, thank you for joining us tonight. Stay if You will, go if You must. Know in our hearts You will always be welcome. Blessed be!!"

And we were back on the pathway. As we walked along, ahead in the distance I saw the most beautiful man. Yes, beautiful, though I would never normally think of a man this way. With blonde hair, and a golden robe, he seemed to radiate sunshine. God and this golden man nodded to each other as they passed, sharing a smile together.

"My Lord" I asked, "was that an angel?"

"Well, yes, he is known as that to some. He is also known to some as a god himself. That was Lucifer"

And His words caused me to stumble. I couldn't believe that we had just passed the ultimate evil. God looked at me, and He knew my mind. And he chuckled a bit. "Think about it logically My son. The Lucifer that you know is a fallen angel, cast out of heaven for challenging Me. If I am the all-powerful being, above all others, how could he do this? How could I allow it?"

"But, in the bible...." I stammered.

"The Bible is a wonderful book, as are the Koran and the Torah and many others, but they are just books, written by the hand of man, not written by Me. And, it's a bit confusing as well if the truth be known, but that's not up to Me to fix. These books are wonderful, but only as guidance, for each man and woman must think for themselves."

And, I believed He was right in this.

"Now, come forth, we must journey a little more before you go back" and He took my hand once again. As we followed the pathway, we soared thru the stars, listening to the music of the heavens, we became a little flower and a mighty oak, we became a babbling brook, and a mighty ocean. We flitted from flower to flower as a little honeybee, and ran across the plains as a mighty stallion.

And, all too soon the pathway returned us to my home. God held my hand a moment longer, and smiled into my face. "My son, you prayed tonight for a true vision of Me. For vision, you must only open your eyes and see what there is to see. Good night to you". And then He was gone, and I was back in my bed. A dream I thought, only a dream, that couldn't have been real.

At that time, a bolt of lightning lit up my room thru the window, and thunder crashed thru the sky, and I thought I heard, from seemingly far away, "Remember, the Lord works in mysterious ways My son".

This morning as I entered the office, I went to the machine for a cup of coffee, and standing there, I spied MaryAnne. As I approached her, I could see her barely cringe, and I could see in her face that she was expecting yet another onslaught from me and my book. She seemed to cast her eyes about for a way to escape, but there was none.

I walked up to her and smiled. "I think I owe you a bit of an apology," I said. "I've been a bit narrow minded of late, and I really had no right to subject you to what I did. It's not up to me to say how you find your path to your spirit, and I was wrong to think that was so,"

MaryAnne just stood there, not knowing what to say. "So, I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry, and I hope you will forgive my trespass. God bless you MaryAnne, and...uh.... Blessed Be?"

You know, I always thought that it was just a saying; about people's jaws dropping to the floor, but MaryAnne did her best at that moment to prove me wrong.

Freedom of Religion means ALL Religions.

Blessings to all, whatever your path!

Back to the Grove * The Beginner's Path * The Clearing * Thyme's Tree