July #4

Easy, Do What's Right
A Dedication

I walk in procession

by candlelight, 

cloaked in white 

for my pure intention. 

We form a circle. 

I make affirmation

claiming myself as Goddess,

Daughter of the Divine.

The two women presiding

gently remove the white, 

enfold me

in my own rich magenta.

Earlier, my magenta cloak

lay stretched across the altar

between the candelabra

and the ceremonial sword.

Alone in the temple

I, who in my long life

bent the knee to none,

was moved to kneel to the Goddess.

Private vows; public avowal.

Afterwards all the women dance,

and I with them,

in our cloaks of light.

I am wrapped

in the peace of the Goddess,

embraced by the warmth

of my sisters.

I walk forward

into this new, late stage of life

and find it easy,
knowing it is right.

— Rosemary Nissen-Wade

July #3

Activation

Like a pill

grim and white

I must take,

good for me,

so they say,

take the nasty

dreams away!

I swallow

so much dreck

from high-ups

smiling wide

wearing suits

planting seeds

poison fruits.

Then WAKE UP!

Smell the beans

recognise

what it means

to be snowed

be kowtowed

be reduced,

zeroed, cowed.

Stand up, stretch

look around

take it in

what is there,

not the show

see what’s wrong

make it fair.

Spit the pill

grim and white

stuff what’s easy

do what’s right.

— Michele Brenton

July #2

To Leave, To Love, To Make

To Leave

The heat leeches from my dry skin

as soon as I abandon the hearthside.

The house sleeps behind me,

and in my seven layers I go

into winter's night under new Moon.

Seven shades past black to true dark.

With finger whitened to bone, I cast circle,

shivering inside.

The earth plane drops away.

I am between the worlds.

To Love

To love the world so much

that magic must be done

close to equinox

when the Moon is yet to swell with possibility,

and the world teeters between death and life.

To love the world enough

to hold seven veils of chiffon

and have them fall, one, two, three,

through the chant

for the dropping of illusion,

truth to be revealed,

for honesty and love to show through.

Seven veils for the seven gates

of Inanna.

To love the world so much

that corruption is willed away,

and lies in government

grow thin as chiffon.

A chant, a mantra for each veil,

a gateway into light.

To Make

In the last minutes of the new Moon,

before She begins to birth herself,

with the power of seven elements – 

air, water, fire, earth, metal, spirit, mind – 

I feel in my cupped hands

the idea of how the world could be,

and it sings one united clean song.

I feed in energy, through the top of my head,

down my body, out my hands,

strengthening, enlarging the vision.

I let it go to embrace the world.

The spell is done.

Circle is open, unbroken.
The hearth welcomes me as a pilgrim.

— Helen Patrice

July #1

Does this mean I’m ready to wake?

Was there an earthquake?

A tremor, even?

A slight jolt?

Is my body in revolt?

Will this darkness last forever?

Oh, get a cup of tea, give me a break!

Relaxation music – imagine a lake:

its beauty, not the depths,

keep breathing!

Ah, stillness,

empty mind, not mind-full,

call upon the Dreamtime, the snake.

How many planetary rotations will it take?

Revolutions? Rebellions?

Interrupted sleeps?

Laughters and weeps?

At least I know I’m alive, tossing.

Until the bed becomes something

to leave, to love, to make.

— Jennie Fraine