Invocation to Cardea

Cardea, in your starry castle at the hinge of the universe, we call to you and your son, Eurus who echoes memories of new growth and springtime. You who looks forward and backward in time, blow your sweet breath upon us.  Allow us to feel you on our skin, the gentle wind blowing on our faces as we open to you in the morning.

Cardea, in your starry castle at the hinge of the universe, we call to you and your son, Notus who speaks to us of the brilliance and warmth of the summer Sun. Remind us of the joy of children who skip along, hand in hand, swinging their arms, singing songs of summer.

Cardea, in your starry castle at the hinge of the universe, we call to you and your son, Zephyrus who sings of the Cauldron of Rebirth. Open the door to allow that which is no longer useful to us to leave.  At the same time open us to the flow of life as we birth newness into each day.

Cardea, in your starry castle at the hinge of the universe, we call to you and your son, Boreas who whispers to us of Life-in-Death, and hints at the seeds within the fallen fruit. Ground us in the knowledge that we shall always find sustenance and renewal in the nurturing life on Earth.

Cardea, Mother, whose power is to open what is shut and to shut what is open, remind us always to listen to the winds.

 

Watcher

red-tail

Watcher sits just behind my left shoulder,
His disdainful look ever with me.
I asked him once what I could do to make his job easier
And he declared quite vehemently, “open your eyes.”

Hawks see everything below them
Soaring as they do on high
Their keen eyes missing nothing
In their search for predator and prey.

Solitary creatures by nature
Territorial, sharing only with owl,
Hunting by day as owl seeks at night
Allowing no other intrusion.

Soaring majestically in your realm
You have chosen to enter mine,
Offering clear vision for what I miss
In my narrowly focused world.

It is like having an added sense,
A keen knowing beforehand,
Of what is coming
Before my poor eyes can see.

Let me take up my drum
And climb upon your back.
We’ll visit new realms on wings together
seeing with wonder the land below.

Treasured friend, bonded brother
You offer this gift of sight
You are steadfast and loyal
As you for me watch day after day.

Brother in spirit, may I be worthy
Of your loyalty and love,
For your gift of vision and clear seeing
I honor you and trust you always.

Morning Peace

Spring Morning

A soft breeze gently lifts a leaf to float above the grass.
I feel the calm and peace of the breeze.
A light rain has washed clean any lingering disturbance in my space.
I am refreshed and renewed.
The sun lifts her face into the sky bringing warmth and light to my world.
She awakens all in her light of a new day.
Birds begin their songs and my heart lifts in the joy of the moment.
I breathe in the fresh morning air and know the calm of peace.

Bare Tree

Bare Tree, here in the cold of winter,
I stand here and gaze at your branches.
You are so adaptable to the changing seasons.
Each year, as the days begin to shorten,
you prepare yourself for the coming cold,
your leaves turning color and then dropping to the ground.
Those leaves, so full of moisture
would freeze with the cold
and cause you grievous harm.
Your branches would grow heavy with ice and snow.
In your bareness, Tree, you show us your wisdom.
In this time of cold,
You are preparing for future growth.
You are readying yourself for spring
When you will send out new leaves and flowers
and begin the growth cycle again.
Would that I could feel this cycle more within my own core
and know when it is time to be still and to rest,
when to pull back and listen,
when to be still and stand, rooted in the ground,
when to drop what could harm me
and when to go within to ready myself for the new.
Thank you, Bare Tree, for showing me this lesson
Thank you for the gift of your knowledge.

Hadaig

crowHadaig, you are so smart
With your large cawing voice,
Unique and patient in flight

Your compact body with
long-legs and thick neck
a heavy, straight bill.
with broad, rounded wings
and wing-tip feathers that spread like fingers

I am amazed at your fine body
you have not a speck of any other color –
all black, even your legs and bill.

you could teach us a lot about being with others
living in large flocks, sometimes of millions
how do you do that
when I have trouble with only a few?

you are inquisitive
and very mischievous, my friend
and so good at solving problems

I just don’t know how you do it
eating almost anything
… even robbing chicks from nests

Oh, bold Hadaig,
you are so aggressive
you often chase away hawks
I know you must surely be full of yourself!

I see you In fields, open woodlands, and forests
on lawns and in parking lots
you raid garbage cans and
pick over what we throw out

you are a great teacher
of cleverness and versatility
It is no wonder you are beloved of the Goddess

In the Tinne Moon – I am Holly

Holly

Holly

Holly trees are rarely allowed to grow to their full height of sixty-five feet and are instead trimmed down as hedges or ornamental bushes.

I am a Holly Tree. Many of us are Holly Trees. As strong women – women whose voices want to shout out to the world – women who have a really hard time being silent in the face of injustice – women who rebel at being the fairer sex – rebel at being trimmed down or at being ornamental bushes!

From early in life the process of being “trimmed down” begins. We are silenced – shushed – trained to be “good little girls” and not assertive – bold or daring!

I am a Holly Tree who has not been trimmed – a Holly Tree who has grown to her full height – a Holly Tree with full spiky leaves – sharp barbs – rich color – full and robust berries – a battle waging spear – who will not – can not – be silent in the face of injustice. A Holly Tree – strong and tall in service to Goddess!

Deanne