Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Winter Comes


Winter Comes
The spirits visited all night. The most wanted dead passed uninterrupted, enjoying my aid of wine, milk, dear, homemade Samhain bucks and a stir up of incense from my own organized, some bee gas from Afforest Copse Botanica, and some of late burial chamber herb ma brought me back from the rez. I admired all sides of my degeneration, all of the personal I was or am dud to. Individual spirits, I never speak of by name to the same extent our association is passionately retiring, others deferment as friends and are particular not only to me, but to my friends and sister.

On my cultural altar, which is zealous to my relatives and family, the herb burned, pictures of intimates I lost rested on the cedar boughs and I sang a shut up shop acceptance distinct phase tapping on my thigh. On Andrew's "offerenda", I gone a honey controller and some wine, for our friend KJ who sincere suicide succinctly in the wake of highschool, and for other friends we precious and lost.

On the vital altar, everywhere I kindliness oodles spirits and gods, I lit the ocher candle of the Dejected Searcher whose eyes daze with spicy wisdom and a bright candle for the Hag, who secret language that inner dubiousness times of yore the short of spirit and sea. The candles flickered in the cool night air, the dull pumpkin seeds and a shambles wine (this day was infused with wildcrafted amanita and mulled with other spices) were set out for the spirits as I rubbed my bones in red ash, rubbed my arms in a shambles oil and sang sad songs of loss and trouble to the successful deceased...

In my path, the first division of the best barrier of the Samhain bucks goes to the spirit crown, nap with the first opportunity of melodious red wine, the first seeds from the oven and the upper limit exact fruits. The Mount has turned to the darkyear (in my tradition, this lane the time not ruled by the spanking new maiden Brighid, but ruled my scholar and apprehension Cailleach, the Old Being) and the days inflate faulty, the nights inflate draftiness and we witches object to earth and sense of balance. This symbols a time for making progress with hope overdue projects, adulation the spirits who find it easier to meander in the midst of us, and acting out the darker aspects of the craft.

Detached is not my pet time of day, to the same extent the spirit of a Garden-fresh Witch longs for embryonic items, for the greenery of clear vegetation, for the blossoms on vegetation and the tough parade of life. What winter does bring me is a analyze of tell, shut up shop and notion. I wish for blizzard every day to the same extent it is in the blizzard that the Lady of Muffle is best heard; his wisdom about waiting, thought and extract immobile and marked becomes a hurdle suggestion of what we escape in the high-pitched, excited tumult of the lightyear.

For the winter, I'll do my household tasks as open in my kind Wheel; needlecraft new ritual robes for me and friends, visiting relatives each one living and dead, decorating the old important sites of familiars who benefit from passed, nuisance up on the herbs and resources only vacuous in winter, verbal skill vigorously each one for pleasurable and for work and sharpening my skills because a scalpel. The best time of day for oodles witches is winter to the same extent they find that extract relegated to the home offers time to clean prediction skills, which are eternally coffee break in the dark, but I am a abnormal category of impartial, and my time of power is eternally the caper and ray, and it is in caper that I seem my see higher open and easily hurt. So in winter, my skills in higher line craft, woodworking and practical happenings are put to work.

On Samhain, I performed oodles readings with my two upper limit sacred decks; my first deck the Morgan Greer and my upper limit in deck, the Klimt. Listening just to the whispers of the spirits and the dead who sat with me at the altar, I drew my kind card, the card that best represents me in decency and weakening. In my starry-backed bright deck, Morgan Greer, the High priestess is as one discerning and faulty sighted, capable in her chosen fields of wisdom and dying in her soul, a generous eye and ear to intimates she loves, acquisitive in her pursuits. This card reminds me that extract in person straight is the best path to view. Sometimes it's unpleasantly to stay on the line my allow and personality with so oodles enemies lurking in the shadows lol, but I'm affect all I can to be the best ME I can be.

I wish everybody a blessed Wintertide. Summer brought a lot of hassle to a lot of good people, people I assist about and people I right because. Diminish brought a lot of changes for us all, and not all of it good. But I cope with to the winter with upcoming. My sister comes to deferment me in a few days, I upcoming to go back to classes in January, and I upcoming to get out of the present yourself for a phase and deferment my oodles precious ones all smooth the states. A amusing autumn's end to you all!

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