Widdershins

Marie Laveau ~ Voodoo Queen

Now there lived a conjure-lady, not long ago
In New Orleans, Louisiana – named Marie Laveau
Believe it or not, strange as it seem
She made her fortune selling voodoo, and interpreting dreams

She was known throughout the nation as the Voodoo Queen
Folks come to her, from miles and miles around
She sure know how to put that, that voodoo down

To the voodoo lady they all would go
The rich, the educated, the ignorant and the poor
She’d snap her fingers, and shake her head
She’d tell them ’bout their lovers – livin’ or dead

Now an old, old lady named widow Brown
Asked why her lover, stopped comin’ around
The voodoo gazed at her and squawked
I seen him kissin’ a young girl, up at Shakespeare’s Park
Hanging on an oak tree, in the dark

Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – yaaaaa

Now old, old lady, she lost her speech
Tears start to rollin’ down her checks
Voodoo say, “Hush my darlin don’t you cry,”
I make him come back, by and by
Just sprinkle this snake dust, all over your floor
I’ll make him come back Friday mornin’, when the rooster crow

Now Marie Laveau she held em in her hand
New Orleans, Louisiana was her promised land
Quality folks, come from far and near
This wonder woman, for to hear
They was afraid to be seen, at her gate
They’d creep through the dark, just to hear their fate
Holdin’ dark veils, over their head
They would tremble to hear, what Maria would say

Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – yaaaaa

And she made gris-gris, with an old ram horn
Stuffed with feathers, shuck from a corn
A big black candle, and a catfish fin
She make a man get religion, and give up his sin

Sad news got out one mornin’, at the break of day
Marie Laveau had done pass away
St. Louis cemetery, she lay in her tomb
She was buried one night, on the wake of the moon

Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
The folks still believe, in the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Marie, Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen

~Music by Dr John

Ask Now Of Death

Then Almitra spoke, saying,

“We would ask now of Death.”

And he said:

“You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day
cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death,
open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires
lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow
your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams,
for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd
when he stands before the king
whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling,
that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind
and to melt into the sun?
And what is to cease breathing,
but to free the breath from its restless tides,
that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top,
then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs,
then shall you truly dance.”

– From The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran

Peace

Peace flows through my heart, and blows through me as a zephyr.
Peace fills me like a fragrance.
Peace runs through me like rays.
Peace stabs the heart of noise and worries.
Peace burns through my disquietude.
Peace, like a globe of fire, expands and fills my omnipresence.
Peace, like an ocean, rolls on in all space.
Peace, like red blood, vitalizes the veins of my thoughts.
Peace like a boundless aureole, encircles my body of infinity.
Peace-flames blow through the pores of my flesh, and through all space.
The perfume of peace flows over the gardens of blossoms.
The wine of peace runs perpetually through the wine press of all hearts.
Peace is the breath of stones, stars, and sages.
Peace is the ambrosial wine of Spirit flowing from the cask of silence,
Which I quaff with my countless mouths of atoms.

~Paramahansa Yogananda

Zuni Sunrise Song

Face the rising sun as you chant, arms raised in greeting.

A he! Arise! Arise!
Rise! Arise! Arise!
Ah eh Wake Up!
Life is calling you.
Ah eh Wake up!
Life is greeting you.
Father sun God, he is calling you.
Father sun God, he is greeting you.

Ah eh ta ho t hey
Eh ta ho ta hey.
Ah ah eh ta ho
A ya he ta ne
Ah ah e ta ho
A ya he ta ne.
A ya a wey
O wey to na wey
A ya a wey
O wey to na wey.

From: Circle of Song

Navajo Healing Prayer

Owl!
I have made your sacrifice.
I have prepared a smoke for you.
My feet restore for me.
My legs restore for me.
My body restore for me.
My mind restore for me.
My voice restore for me.
Today take out your spell for me.
Today your spell for me is removed.
Away from me you have taken it.
Far off from me it is taken.
Far off you have done it.
Today I shall recover.
Today for me it is taken off.
Today my interior shall become cool.
My interior feeling cold, I shall go forth.
My interior feeling cold, may I walk.
No longer sore, may I walk.
Impervious to pain, may I walk.
Feeling light within, may I walk.
With lively feelings, may I walk.
Happily may I walk.
Happily abundant dark clouds I desire.
Happily abundant showers I desire.
Happily abundant vegetation I desire.
Happily abundant pollen I desire.
Happily abundant dew I desire.
Happily may I walk.
May it be happy before me.
May it be happy behind me.
May it be happy below me.
may it be happy above me.
With it happy all around me, may I walk.
It is finished in beauty.
It is finished in beauty.

Farewell Song To Northland

As the years passed Wainamoinen
Recognized his waning powers,
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,
Sang his farewell song to Northland,
To the people of Wainola;

Sang himself a boat of copper,
Beautiful his bark of magic;
At the helm sat the magician,
Sat the ancient wisdom-singer.

Westward, westward, sailed the hero
O’er the blue-back of the waters,
Singing as he left Wainola,
This his plaintive song and echo:

“Suns may rise and set in Suomi,
Rise and set for generations,
When the North will learn my teachings,
Will recall my wisdom-sayings,
Hungry for the true religion.
Then will Suomi need my coming,

Watch for me at dawn of morning,
That I may bring back the Sampo,

Bring anew the harp of joyance,
Bring again the golden moonlight,
Bring again the silver sunshine,
Peace and plenty to the Northland.”

~Kalevala / Rune 50 (John Martin Crawford translation)

The Return

Some day, if you are lucky,
you’ll return from a thunderous journey
trailing snake scales, wing fragments
and the musk of Earth and moon.

Eyes will examine you for signs
of damage, or change
and you, too, will wonder
if your skin shows traces

of fur, or leaves,
if thrushes have built a nest
of your hair, if Andromeda
burns from your eyes.

Do not be surprised by prickly questions
from those who barely inhabit
their own fleeting lives, who barely taste
their own possibility, who barely dream.

If your hands are empty, treasureless,
if your toes have not grown claws,
if your obedient voice has not
become a wild cry, a howl,

you will reassure them. We warned you,
they might declare, there is nothing else,
no point, no meaning, no mystery at all,
just this frantic waiting to die.

And yet, they tremble, mute,
afraid you’ve returned without sweet
elixir for unspeakable thirst, without
a fluent dance or holy language.

When Words Were Magick

In the very earliest of times,
When both people and animals lived on the earth,
A person could become an animal if he wanted to
And an animal could become a human being.
Sometimes they were people
And sometimes animals
And there was no difference.
All spoke the same language.
That was a time when words were like magic.
The human mind had mysterious powers.
A word spoken by chance
Might have strange consequences.
It would suddenly become alive
And what people said wanted to happen
Could happen ~
All you had to do was say it
Nobody could explain this:
That’s the way it was.

~An Old Eskimo story found at Feathers and Bones

Nephthys

What magnetic pull
we are drawn to at the end
of our light, the darkness
encircles us with her strength.

There is no escape
from the unknown expanse.
She brings you to the badlands.
She carries you to the dry barren
stretch of sky
where the stars too have been extinguished.

Hawks cry their parting love.
Women wail and she heeds
their pleas with unyielding love.
As all are born,
so too must they go.

into the dark expanse.

~Jeszika Le Vye

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