Summertime...

George Gershwin wrote his American folk opera "Porgy and Bess" in 1935. You may recognize "Summertime" as performed by Janice Joplin or catch bits of Gershwin's lyrics in Sublime's song of the same name. In celebration of warm weather and babies with good lookin' mamas, here's a delightful animation set to the sorrowful, soulful voice of Billie Holiday.

The cat who made this video's from the Netherlands...his website isn't in English, but here's the link.

http://amosdepamos.hyves.nl/

We are sisters...

We are sisters, of the goddess,
we are keepers, of the flame,
we are sisters,in a circle,
and we sing, to this flame.

We are sisters of the maiden,
dancing, drunken in the rain.
We are sisters of the maiden,
this I sing, in Kore's name.

We are sisters of the goddess,
we are keepers of the flame,
we are sisters, in a circle,
and we sing, the soul is flame.

We are sisters, of the mother,
whose child, mid-stanza, wakes again.
We are sisters, of the mother,
this I sing, in Hera's name.

We are sisters, of the goddess,
we are keepers of the flame,
we are sisters, of the wise crone,
who walks alone, in dark and rain.

A Poem by Jelaluddin Rumi

Little by little, wean yourself.
This is the gist of what I have to say.

From any embryo, whose nourishment comes from the blood,
Move to any infant drinking milk,
To a child on solid food,
To a searcher after wisdom,
To a hunter of more invisible game.

Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo,
You might say, “The world outside is vast and intricate.
There are wheat fields and mountain passes,
And orchards in blood.

At night there are millions of galaxies, and in sunlight
The beauty of friends dancing at a wedding.”

You ask the embryo why he, or she, stays copped up
In the dark with eyes closed.
Listen to the answer.
There is no “other world.”
I only know what I’ve experienced.
You must be hallucinating.

hmm....

I feel like this flower today...kind of grey.

Local Love

I love to drive the old, rambling highways north of Sedalia and see the fields spread like a patchwork quilt across the earth.

Goddess Gathering

The Goddess wears many faces, some of whom I met last weekend at the Triple Goddess Gathering. I saw the bright maiden Kore in newborn leaves and the tribe of young women who invited me to their fire. We chanted and chattered and in the middle of the night organized ourselves enough to move my tent into their village.

As we passed the magic mirror around our Circle, I saw Demeter gazing back at me. I am the mother of two beautiful children and a multitude of knotty hempen creations. My friend Waterlilly is the mother of this trio of polymer deities.

There is a grandmother dragon who sleeps in a cave at the foot of Cumberland Hill. I wandered down to visit her after closing ritual and returned to see Rose, Sorshia, and Cat sitting around the fire like the Norms sitting beneath the Tree of Life. These three women always make me feel welcome at Ozark Avalon…and sometimes humble, because my voice will never carry like Rose’s and my scrambled eggs are never as fluffy as Soshia’s. One day…