Monthly Archives: September 2017

If There Is To Be Peace

If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.

If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.

If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbors.

If there is to be peace between neighbors,
There must be peace in the home.

If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.

~Chinese Philospher – Lao-Tse – 6th century bce

Blessings of the Season

Blessings of my first frost on you
Blessings of the goose-stitched sky
Blessings of the trees in sunset glory
And warm hearths at the end of the day.
Blessings of the harvest set before you
Blessings of the food that comfort brings
Blessings on the fire that stays within you
Blessings on the fire that cannot stay.

Found at: Magickal Winds

Invocation of the Goddess

Lift up thy arms and call my many names,
I am known as Innanna, Diana, Demeter, Isis, Neth, Brid, Astar, Hecate, Selene.
Beyond death I am but eternal even the passing of the seasons.
I am inside you, your mother, and your sister.
I have been with you since the beginning
and I will be with you in transformation of spirit.
The weak and the lost the hungry and the sick are all my children.
From my womb comes all life .
Beckon unto me in times of need
for I hear you my child.
I am the Earth on which to rest your weary body,
I am the water that washes away the tears of humility,
I am the air in which you breath in the breath of life ,
and I am the fire that burns deep in the passions of humanity.
I am all you see and all that you have yet to discover.
My arms are the tree limbs out stretched
and open to receive into my soul your knowledge,
my roots run deep,
as my devotion has no boundries.
The wise ones who’s beckons I have known,
from above and from below.

Found at: The Witches Eyes

To Autumn

O Autumn. Laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof, there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe;
And all the daughters of the year shall dance,
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

-William Blake

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