PaganSquare is a community blog space where Pagans can discuss topics relevant to the life and spiritual practice of all Pagans.
Merry meet, fellow Witches and Pagans!
As you might imagine we've had a ton of content here on PaganSquare over the last month about Halloween—or Samhain as most of us prefer to call it ;)—as well the cycle of life and death, the gods of death, and dealing with our ancestors. Given how much of it there is, we figured it might be a hassle to try and locate it all so we've gathered all of it (plus a little extra stuff we found scouring the web) and bunched them into a collection of links here for you to browse at your leisure.
Beneath a sky grown newly vast, where geese call, winged witches, the trees are stripped and naked; their squirrels wear blue vair.
Branches above, branches below. The Antlered also wears his winter blue, his bull-neck engorged with pounding maleness. He quivers, eager to rut his does and witches.
A golden carpet is laid for us, flecked with browns and russets. The cider is poured, the table spread with all the wealth of Summer. The fire is laid and ready to light; the skeleton band tunes up.
Today leading up to Halloween, our Earthy Thursday focuses on that spooky scary staple -- trees! Famous trees, top 10 trees, old trees, guerilla trees, the Halloween tree.
A solitary Scots Pine nicknamed "the Lonely Tree" has been named "Tree of the Year" in Wales. One caveat -- the tree blew over in hurricane-force winds last winter, and is now at the center of a campaign to save its life....
(an excerpt from my book, Visions of Vanaheim)
Some time after Star Mother birthed the Serpent Twins, and the Serpent Twins made the world, the cycles of life and death, living and dying, began upon that world. And even though Star Mother knew it was necessary, and that life feeds on life, she still shed tears, feeling the pain of every living thing in its struggles, and in its dying process. Those tears were the only record kept of those lives and those pain, for eons. Eventually, she shed so many tears that she was almost drowning in them....
For those who may not have heard, a ceremonial guard on duty at the Canadian National War Memorial on Parliament Hill was shot and killed this past week. The shooter claimed to be a Muslim and in support of ISIL, but there is no evidence he was working with any sort of organized group, and it seems as though he was mentally ill.
As a symbol, he could not have chosen a better target. It was our National War Memorial. The ceremonial guard was a young man who didn't even have any bullets in the gun he was armed with. His companion tried to chase the culprit down....
Crackling leaves are burning
Transformed from life to death
The crow calls out relentlessly
To those unseen and life withers
In the blasting of its issue.
The Crone’s outstretched hand
Pulls me tightly to her breast
The air chills at her touch
Long icy fingers tapping out
The heart beat of life’s pulse within.