I don't know why I was so afraid to write about my religion before
I have so much pride and love for this old and sacred faith
Yet anytime someone asks me what my religion is

I hesitate

I am relinquishing my fears today
No longer shall I be too afraid to be who I am
I am not ashamed of my faith
I shouldn't hide behind a decade of prosecution
We've moved past the burnings and the witch hunts
Let them come at me with their torches and pitchforks

It isn't my gods and goddesses who seeks the path of destruction

Through her fingertips she casts a pretty little spell
It fills with words she feels about a petty little devil
Replaced by her blind rage, a hex slips past her lips

Never ******* a pagan witch

Something devilish
Antlers In The Churchyard,
your home is a forest of mirrors
voices clinging to shapes in the darkness
Swallow down the warmth
As it drips from your mouth you will mourn
Cry for your mother,
Who will touch you now?
No skin on your fingers
No leaves on your branches
The burn of rain in your bloodstream
The scream of wind in your endless thoughts
You are a God in a place you don't belong
something old among the concrete
long since buried
They locked you up
But you will be fed

I felt in my bones
accepted and seen
I felt picked up
Cherished
Loved
"You are mine."
Not a question
Not a comand
A statement of fact
A release of such pent up fear and frustration
My body shook with it
And I was one with the Earth
One with Him
And all was
Finally
Finally
Right

Missing all the 2 AM chats
about All the Things,
the this and thats.
You were always awake too.
Ready to share,
ready to care.
Ready to tell a story or two.
You drank in kindness,
with every black cup.
To the world's darkness,
you had blindness,
always... looking up.
Grandma, how can it be,
that you WERE?
How can you be,
not here with me?
You miss us all,
I am sure.
We miss you too.
In all the little things we do,
all the times we show how to care.
All those times...
You are there.
Never again...
Cannot be real.
My heart cannot begin,
To accept that deal.
I will laugh and cry and love,
with you.
Either here,
or above.
Do not forsake me,
in my Pagan ways.
Light my path,
these earthly days.
For to live, and laugh, and toil, and love,
with your whole heart,
I have heard...
is what makes a good life.
A good wife.
A soul well lived and learned.
But just in case,
Can you put in a good word?
For I cannot bear
to exisit in a world,
With you never again there.

Deep in unharrowed woodlands sleeping, beneath the towering willows weeping,
Unmarred by the intrusive light of dawn rests he, the melodic faun.
Upon right shoulder rests his bow and 'round his horns flowers grow.
Catching hearts of both maiden and hag is his unabashed and shameless brag.
With a flex of wrist he summons the wind and leaves all care and woe behind;
And yet, his rest is restless still as the forest decays and grows ill.
Great faun, will your goddess flourish once more, or will she leave you on the forest floor?
The faun laughs and shrugs his shoulders, ever warm as the night grows colder,
"No maiden, queen, or crone can refuse me place on her throne!
I am your heart's desire; and thus, the wood shall never expire!"
Deep in unharrowed woodlands sleeping, beneath the towering willows weeping,
Lies the goddess with her faun, blending star-filled night and shining dawn.