Autumn Magic

Autumn magic marks the time
That grapes are cut from twisted vines,
Grains are stored to harvest songs
and Horns of Plenty beg us come...

Shedding leaves of gold appear
Spirits of the West draw near
Mountains merge with sunset lines
as elders whisper ancient rhymes

Sweet-grass smokes on cooling nights
Cauldrons burn in banishing rites
the Labyrinth swirls with healing hums
as prayers flow to trancing drums

Skies grow dark with mystery
as magic spells start flying free
Crackling sparks from fires blow
as sisters dance in moonlight glow

Dream-time brings a soulful sleep
as stars reflect on oceans deep
Mystic shadows cloak the Earth
Old ones yearn for new rebirth

When all is still and quiet begins
We stop to rest and go within
And on her lap we'll rock awhile
Letting go with grateful smiles...

Many Blessings in the Fall Season...
Love...Granny Silverwitch

Autumn Equinox

Autumn Equinox is sometimes called the Feast of Thanksgiving.
It is marked when the Sun enters the cardinal air sign of Libra.  
Now the waning light of day hangs in balance with the dark of night,
bringing the forces of day and night, light & dark, into equal balance...

This Holy Day has been called Mabon, Festival of the Final Harvest,
or the Witches' Thanksgiving. It was celebrated when our ancestors
harvested grapes to make wine or when they cut, milled or stored nuts
corn, wheat & other grains to sustain life through the upcoming wiuter.

Just as the Spring Equinox brings forces of dark & light into balance
before the incoming light prevails & spurs us into action... the Fall Equinox
brings forces into balance once again before incoming darkness prevails...
taking us into a quieter time of relaxation, introspection, reflection, release,
a time to give thanks as we prepare for darker days of winter ahead.

In ancient myths... the Goddess & God are now being separated,
for he sails over western seas to finally descend to the underworld
while she goes on without his warmth & becomes Crone of winter.
In some myths, the seed from the harvest containing energy from
Sun now enters the womb/tomb of the Earth Goddess for gestation,
marking his descent into the shadows and eventual rebirth at Yule.
In other myths, the sacrifice of the sun god prevails, then he sinks
into the living sea-womb of our Ancient Mother only to resurrect
again at Spring Equinox when his light overcomes darkness again.

There are similar myths of descent & transition in Dianic Tradition.
One is when Persephone, daughter of Demeter, descends to the under-
world, gains deeper wisdom, resurrects as Kore and returns to her
grieving goddess mother at the Spring Equinox. Another is when the
Sumerian queen of heaven, Inanna, journeys to the underworld to
meet her sister Ereskigal, embracing her "shadow" in the process,
& returning to the light with deeper acceptance of her divine nature.  

Of course, all anciet myths carry greater significance... but each
mirrors the Autumn season & our descent into the dark shadows,
for it is not only a time of cutting or reaping crops for storage but
for reaping & thanking what we have sown in our lives as well.

In Women's Traditions, Fall mirrors the mystery of menopause,
or moon-pause, when our blood stays within to empower
us as we age & to strengthen us in our third destiny of life.
On the sacred wheel... it mirrors the time of the Wisewomen...
the Crone who laughs aloud & speaks her truth without fear,
the Old One who snips away all that no longer needed or useful,
the Grandmother who passes her wisdom to future generations,
the Hag, keeper of sacred knowledge and deeper mysteries,
the Gatekeeper who holds open the door to all magical ways,
the Witch with power to bend or shape consciousness as
alchemist who magically transforms ordinary reality...
the Healer with gifts of herbal potions & medicinal remedies...
the Seer with magical gifts of insight and prophesy....
the Visionary who holds a higher vision for Humanity.

Autumn Equinox honors the Earth Goddess as destroyer,
for all must be cleared away to make room for the new;
all must fall away to rise up again; all must die to be reborn.

Our Fall Rituals include Croning Ceremonies to honor
Sisters in our Circle who are entering the third destiny of life.
Our rituals also focus on going deep within... healing, banishing,
releasing, reflecting & cutting away all that no longer serves our lives.

Autumn is magical time... for it brings us into a restful season,
a season of reflection, introspection, gratitude and thanksgiving,
along with the serenity of accepting the things we can't change.
This is also a time to relax, to enter the caves of our inner world,
to spiral in and out of the sacred Labyrinth for contemplation...
or trance journey to the dream time realms for deeper insight...
to give thanks for the wisdom gained from life's experience.
It is a time to retire, enjoy, appreciate and reminisce.

Please join us in the Circle for our Fall Celebrations!
All Women are Welcome!
Blessed Be
* Some  Artwork is  from The Goddess Oracle by Amy Sophia Marashinsky and Hrana Janto

What Shall I Be?

What shall I be, when I shall be old?
Shall I be withered shear
like a falling leaf brown and wrinkled,

Careful now,
a sudden step might create
a barely visible pile of dust.

Shall I instead be fresh & green,
born of spring rain and gusty winds,
a moment of promise?

I shall be something in between,
neither new nor old,
neither brown nor new born green...

I shall be scarlet orange & gold,
Still passionate,
Yearning to live and learn,
with knowledge to impart
if there be one to listen

I shall not know when I shall be old,
only that one day, I shall no longer be...

Esther Sundel

The Old Ones

When Autumn comes I rest awhile
to watch the leaves with wistful smiles
the wind blows soft to lift them free
as they let go of mother tree

They swirl & twirl through wisps of air
then drift and dance without a care
In flowing sweeps they tease & please
then fall to Earth with grace and ease

They rest like blankets on the ground
or pile on grasses all around
but when the snow of winter comes
they turn to compost, every one

They mime the fate of aging ones
That frolic free 'til life is done
Enjoying love in truth & grace
with silver hair or wrinkled face

For things aren't that important now
that once showed worry on the brow
the hands of time have set them free
to bask in cherished memories

And when they rock or sit a spell
their wisdom pours with tales to tell
as bony fingers point the way
to places where they laughed & played

With swiftness gone & movements slow
they take the time to ebb and flow
They nap in cushioned garden chairs
or drift in dreams without a care

The aging ones are precious crones
that venture on to lands unknown
and like the leaves in Autumn time
They're letting go in peace sublime

Mama Silverwitch

Autumn Dreamtime

When leaves start falling to the ground
it's time to come together
to feast with sisters near & dear
and welcome cooling weather,
With colored hues of rust & gold
and Nature's glory to behold
we welcome Autumn's sweet repose
while celebrating rites of old...

We gather for Thanksgiving time
to drum & sing with pleasure,
as horns of plenty claim the day
with Earth's abundant treasures,
And like the reaper cutting free,
the winds will sweep the old dub brie
as fire's burn to set us free
to introspect with blessings be...

So let's give thanks for all we have
and bridge our hearts as one
remembering the gifts received
as western guardians come,
With nectar poured we'll raise a toast
to sister Crones we cherish most
and with the Dreamtime soon to come
we'll celebrate the setting sun

Mama J Silverwitch

Harvest Home

Harvest Home, my friends,
O bring the harvest in!
Gone the summer haze,
the frost will soon begin.
Harvest Moon will grant a boon
and turn the night to day,
Harvest Home, my friends,
O sing the hours away!

Harvest Home, my friends,
O reap the stalks of grain,
Life lies in the seed,
'til spring shall come again,
Golden leaves & golden sheaves
do glow by light of moon;
Harvest Home, my friends,
for winter's coming soon!

Harvest Home, my friends,
Oh work until we're done;
Soon come rest to all
who labor 'neath the sun,
Fill right up the vintage cup,
and toast the new made wine;
Harvest Home, my friends,
for 'tis the Harvest Time!

Chris Carol

The Banishing

In flames of burning rage
I banish all that stays
to hinder and control
and torment other souls
preventing those that be
to flourish peacefully

I banish all the cruel
the patriarchal rule
violent wars that scream
insidious and mean
oppression's ruthless reign
& suffering in vain

I banish all that victimize
blame & shame & criticize
blind opinions justified
violations sanctified,
All that tortures life
with bigotry and strife

I banish all who gain,
who thrive on others' pain
inflicting ills & death
to benefit the rest
the selfish profits made
while others wail and fade

I banish all the crime
the righteous & unkind
who poison the environment
punishing the innocent
raping mother earth
with greedy stealing curse

With purfifying sage
I cast a healing haze
amending wretched flaws
restoring nature's laws.
I see us dancing free
and say so mote it be


The Song of Wisdom

I am the bell song of the pink and amber skies
walking softly on the changing winds,
waking you with morning mist & fragrant dew...
I am the powers of the air and dawning light,
moving you with the cooling breath of the coming season,
guiding you into the shadows of conscious insight
clearing your path with inspirations and foresight
bringing sweet visions and memories of days past...

I am the scarlet brush strokes of the orange sunset
flashing in the high desert with radiant illumination
striking at your core, prompting you with inner urges;
I am the powers of fire... the golden sun & silver moon
lighting your inner torches to the underworld...
where the lust of sweet desire gives way to thanksgiving
as vibrancy spirals down with waning energy
and courage of past deeds now shine with honor....

I am the ebb and flow of the oceans, rivers and deep abyss,
filling your crystal chalice with emotional fulfillment,
rocking you into trance with my enchanting lullabies;
I am the power of water that soothes you with healing love,
the calm lake that cradles you on my watery womb
as you glide with flowing dreams to mystical places,
guiding you to realms of divination and magic
to reveal the rapture of your innermost beauty...

I am the great Mother who feeds you from my belly,
the humming spirit of the dark woods & majestic forest,
returning you to caves of repose and long nights awaiting;
I am the powers of earth, of ancient wisdom & inner silence,
separating fruit from vine, kernel from husk, leaf from branch
as I gather all back to my regenerating tomb of transformation;
I bring comfort & relaxation by the hearth to your tired bones
and fill you with grace and gratitude for times well lived....

Hear my Song & Give Thanks for Blessings Received


Becoming a Crone

As you pass through the gate
From the perfumed garden of youth
Linger a moment and look back.
See the innocent, laughing children,
See the awkward youths struggling,
See the heedless, joyful passion,
See the hard world done trying to make a mark,
See the struggle to keep it all up
To satisfy an inner judge.

Then look forward to the new garden,
The garden of the Crone,
Filled with reflecting pools of water
that mirror the patterns of life.
The cobble path beckons to you
to wander and see mature plants
Bursting with beauty, then fading,
Peacefully, becoming compost to birth
a new perfumed garden.

Diane Truly