Fey Witch

FeyWtchCal

ScrollBarHI am a fey witch. Magic is my heritage and my salvation. I will not be deprived of it. I will remain ever immersed in the magic that flows through the entire cosmos.

This subtle current dances about me all day, even in my sleeping hours, empowering me and making me whole. It heals me, delights me, and celebrates me. It relieves me of my pains, doubts, and flaws. It removes obstacles.

Oppressors deny magic, lest we use its ever available power to live wild and free, with direct access to Deity and the gifts Deity bestows, independent of dour religious institutions and oppressive societal hierarchies.

But magic is real and a Goddess-given right. I would go further to say magic is a living aspect of my Goddess. No one will rob me of my Goddess and Her power. I live in magic.

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I’m sharing my above prose-poem not only for its own sake but also because it’s in the spirit of my upcoming seven-week ritual. For full info on the event, click here.

It’s impossible to explain the ritual’s style or all its benefits, because it’s oral tradition, but this poem and the graphics convey a bit of the flavor. I can’t wait to start the rite!

As always, I’m working hard in preparation, hoping to create an amazing magical experience for participants—including me. I enjoy preparing. Did you know I paint art for my event handouts sometimes? The Third Road Book of Shadows pages (aka handouts) for this event are rocking my boat. The process of painting art for them and channeling their text has plumped up my cells with happy mojo.

I believe giving life your all, like I’m giving it my all to prepare this seven-week ritual, makes life its fullest. That describes the rite: with each other’s support, and our Gods at our backs, we’ll go for broke in a wild Fey ride that magically propels us toward our dreams. So mote it be.

The above poem will be used in the seven-week ritual, and is in a handout I’ll give ritual participants. One initial motivation for this post was to display that Book of Shadows page here. I’m having such a ball creating handouts that I just had to share one online.

But, alas, alack, I couldn’t do it. The handout is too big a file for a webpage to load in less than a decade. I need a lesson on how to shrink large, detailed art files without losing too much quality.

I can show you the graphic at the top of this post, which is part of that handout’s art. And I made the little graphic at the side especially for this post. Because I love ya!

Enjoy the poem, join in the ritual, its info is here.

Use Your Magic

Here’s another picture-poem I wrote/painted:

RmbrMagcSm

The border I painted for a previous picture poem (check it out here) was almost the right magic for the above picture-poem. I just needed to change the background color, and rotate the frame … and I might’ve tweaked a few other things, too … I forget, because it’s been a few weeks.

I’d written both poems around the same time, and consider them part of a larger whole. So I’d wanted almost identical borders.

I worked hard on the border, so it feels satisfying to find more than one appropriate use for it.

I was striving for the look of an old Book of Shadows page, with a personal and modern twist—something that evokes traditional witchcraft, but feels like it is here with me, in the now.

My beloved Faerie witch, stay tuned for one more meme that is part of this mini-series.

(The art work blurred a bit and what-not, when I made the file smaller so the webpage would appear quickly for you.)

Remember your magic. Use your magic. Revel in your magic. Blessed be.

BoSNwsltrSm

Goddess Womb Dreamcatcher

GdsWmbDC1S The only lore I’ve read about dreamcatchers is specific to dreams and nightmares. I sensed a deeper layer about visions—and an even deeper layer about the Goddess. To convey everything I channeled, I crafted a poem and a sculpture. I call them both “Goddess Womb Dreamcatcher.”

The poem and sculpture also convey my thanksgiving to Goddess.

To make the sculpture, I felted wool into organic shapes like leaves, vines, flowers, and a feather. I attached the shapes to a V-shaped stick, so the Dreamcatcher would be reminiscent of a woman’s reproductive system.

The poem is below, but first a detail of the Dreamcatcher: the wool sculpted feather.

GdsWmbDC2S

Shout out to the folks at Living Felt, where I purchase my wool: they sell quality felting supplies, created without cruelty to sheep, and provide exceptional customer service.

OK, this is the poem, (prayer, affirmation, contemplation, story, brilliant insights, brilliant application of said insights, visualization, ritual, etc.,):

Goddess Womb Dreamcatcher

All visions spring from the Goddess’ belly.
They travel down
until they meet a feather,
then tumble from between Her legs,
onto my mind.

I give thanks.

My mind is a womb upside down, though my mind is right side up.
My womb is a mind upside down, though my womb is right side up.
I am whole if I live in paradox.

I give thanks.

All life is woven within Her womb.
She’s the spinner who spun Herself into being.
I offer the life and art I weave to Her.

I give thanks.

NesltrSqTShe is the dreamer and the dream.
There is no Dreamcatcher but Her.
I send Her my dreams as an offering.

I give thanks.

The Goddess protects me—
captures both nightmares and sweet dreams,
taking them into Herself,
then birthing only the beauty
into my waking day.

I give thanks.

Yes, She’s Nightmare as well
—cackling menace in my powerless hours,
which are both sleeping and waking.
Even in those times, She holds all creation
—including the whole of me—
as the weaving of life that’s safe in Her womb.

I give thanks.

She bestows on me Her complete Self:
all creation and all beyond creation.
My ideal: give Her no less of myself,
offer my entirety
to Her and Her dreams.

I give thanks.

NwsltrOrTr

Druid (Elven) Chant

Yule14BlackThis is a seasonal chant. It can be used not only for the Winter Solstice, but also for winter months subsequent to Yule.

If you recite it, please tell me what happens. Walking through falling snow, I channeled this poem. When the Goddess gave me a line, I chanted it immediately, while continuing my passage beneath a gray snowy sky. The experience was a gift from the Goddess, and doubly joyful when, reaching home, I managed to get a version of it in writing, because now I can share it with you, my fellow seeker (as well as use it again myself). Sharing our journeys blesses me utterly. So it would be wonderful to know your experience with this chant.

And, by the way, it works perfectly well without the snow storm, LOL. You do not need falling snow to use this chant.

Druid (Elven) Winter Solstice Chant
Francesca De Grandis, 2014

With the falling snow,
stars plummet to ground.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

I, elf, know my losses.
I, elf, know my losses.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

I, elf, know my pains.
I, elf, know my pains.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

I, elf, am not trapped by any sorrow.
I, elf, am not destined to mythic melancholy
or an inevitable tragedy of erroneous lore.

Yule25BlackAaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

Stars descend with the falling snow.
The chill and the heat bless me.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

All the power of the stars is mine.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

My powers are from the dark Mother Goddess.
My powers are from the blazing newborn King.
My powers are from the earth’s molten core.
My powers are from the fiery silver stars.
My powers are from the Dragon flame—all cauldron fires are mine.

By my powers, I easily manifest utter connection to my Gods.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

weebossideBy my powers, I easily manifest self.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

By my powers, I easily manifest beauty.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

By my powers, I easily manifest self-love.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

By my powers, I easily manifest usefulness to others.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

By my powers, I easily manifest peace.

Yule29BlackAaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

By my powers, I easily manifest fun.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

By my powers, I easily manifest happiness.

By my powers, I easily manifest wealth.

By my powers, I easily manifest health.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

I easily manifest connection to all my self.

I easily manifest connection to all things.

I easily manifest integration within myself.

I easily manifest integration within the World Tree.

Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.
Aaahhhhhh, wooooooo.

I easily manifest Faerie.

Aaaaahhhhhhhh.
Wooooooooooo.
Aaaaahhhhhhhh.
Wooooooooooo.

Om.
Om.
Om.

purchsbanr2

Coven of the Dead

November 2013

These past two years, the need to grieve
a passing on has come three times.
And, though each passing wrenched my soul,
and I sore miss my precious friends,
in other ways they are here still,
beside me in a way that’s real.

I have a coven of the dead.
We circle still, inside my head.
Lady Jane is there with pride.
Her generous love is clear and bright.
The grin of Trickster Dawn is wide,
his loyal soul stands by my side.
And when Olivia knows it right,
she too attends e’re day or night.

We circle round inside my head,
in morning rites and before bed.
Death robs all beings, it won’t stop.
But love and light remain throughout.

The veil is thin and visits come,
the wheel of life is never done.
And when my dead have need for friends,
my love remains, again, again.

When last I leave the narrow world
from which most people never stray,
until they leave it at the end,
my friends will walk me through the veil,
and we will circle—still, still,
a coven of the dead.

image

image

I do not know why my language became archaic in this poem, nor why I chose to singsong. But it felt right. Perhaps, it distanced me enough from my pain to, paradoxically, write about it honestly. In any case, admitting my heartache opened a great joy in that aching heart, as you can see. On another note: Special thanks to VZR and KT for their support to post such a personal piece.

CnslingBotmBnr2

Winter Joy: A Pagan Contemplation

image

Want support for a joyful serene winter? Check out http://www.outlawbunny.com/2013/11/30/winter-joy/

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Text of the poem, in case you cannot view the graphic:

Sink into Winter’s quiet darkness,
to enjoy peace, healing, and luxurious days.
Revel in Winter’s light:
Snow flooded by moonlight on a crisp dark night;
or lights on a Yule tree
in a dark room smelling of woodfire and popcorn.
Or the bright thrills of raucous fellowship,
children’s laughter, and holiday songs.
And sparks of inspiration
that burst into flames of joy
when we allow ourselves
to relax and revel in winter quiet.

Joy Creates Abundance

The Generous Sun – Francesca De Grandis, 2012.

The Generous Sun – Francesca De Grandis, 2012.

Beltane Poem

Do you say you’re too worried about money to be happy? Do you insist making a living earns all your time, you can’t take time for joy?

Ancient Mayday, it was not just an elite priesthood who went into the fields to make love. Even farmers did it to bless their crops.

Joy creates abundance.

Know the battle is fixed: When the Winter Queen and Spring Queen’s armies fight on Beltane, the Spring Queen always wins.

What keeps you from Spring? Is it fear, hate, self-doubt, refusal to love the frail arrogant humans populating this planet? What keeps you from Spring? Leap the Beltane fire. Be purified.

You winter heart—what freezes it still!? Leap the Beltane fire.

And be welcomed into Spring by the Faerie Queen.

She gives you a rose.

A dragon appears, climb on its back, take your rose with you, take flight upon this great and honorable beast.

As you fly, your thawed heart blooms a garden, your thawed heart blooms spring, your thawed heart starts to hope.

Become a garden on the back of a dragon,

Throw back your head and howl in mad joy.
Throw back your head and laugh with foolish pleasure.
Throw back your head to watch the moon and sun smile at us all.

Come to earth.
Throw back your head and grin, that Mother Earth caresses your feet.
Bow your head. Looking down, grin that you, a garden, are embraced by Mother Earth.

Thank the dragon, and say goodby as it flies off.
Do not try to keep it by you a second longer,
do not think it has more for you.
Trying to capture or control a dragon is bad news,
even if you do not realize you are trying to imprison it.

As you cry out a wish from the bottom of your garden heart,
a wish for abundance and all your heart’s desires,
throw your rose into the sky.

Do not try to get the rose back, let it go.

Send the gods love and power and hope.
Then say thank you and goodby to them for now.

Joy creates abundance. Take time for joy.

May 2, 2013. Yesterday, I wrote a Beltane ritual in my head while I was leading it. Usually I don’t remember what I channel unless I write it down right then but, for various reasons, some of it remained with me. The above is a variation on what I remember of yesterday’s Beltane rite/poem/concept. One reason I remember it is that, as some of you may recognize, there are bits adapted from a Beltane script/poem/concept I developed years back. I made a new poem out of it today (never try to capture a oral tradition moment, make a new moment instead) to 1) help the rite’s participants, including moi, follow through on yesterday’s work 2) because gods impelled me 3) I am a ritualist, poet, and cosmologist who likes to share some of her ideas in written form, lol 4) I am taking time for joy.

Hands

imageHands

I heard words about silence,
again.
And again.
Eloquence can lead us toward a stilled hush,
but “toward” is not “at.”

Our poems and prayers
sometimes muzzle God,
leave Divinity mute,
unable to speak except for the hollow terror we feel
for lack of touching Her palm
with our small empty
fragile fingers.

So I got silent to hear God.

Afterwards, I wrote a poem describing what happened:

“The silent voice
tells me, ‘Love.’
More than tells me,
also gives me
the ability.”

Did writing the poem about the ability
make me lose the ability?
I am more and more dissatisfied
with my words, your words,
I want to just be with you, holding hands,
in God’s company.
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I’m so excited to offer Archetype Coaching in a one-hour appointment, instead of only as part of something else—such as a class—which is how I have done it til now! http://stardrenched.com/archetype-coaching/

There Are Ghosts in All Our Heads


The word “red” means red.
“Apple” means apple.
If someone thinks I said,
“I’m eating an orange,”
they’re listening to a ghost,
not to me.

They will tell you I
said things that I didn’t.

We all have ghosts
that smother our ears.

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Sprinkling Faerie Dust on Breakfast. Powerful reading that is short enough to fit into your day. Available only from the author: https://www.etsy.com/listing/114317006/sprinkling-faerie-dust-on-breakfast