Traditional Witchcraft for Woods and Forests; A review.

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Traditional Witchcraft for the Woods & Forests by Melusine Draco is a wonderful read for anyone who feels the need to get away from the pressures of the city for a moment or few.

One of the very first books I read from Moon Books had to do with spirit animals and animal magic, and as a wolf I definitely need the comfort of the forest. This book isn’t just an instruction manual (like so many of these type of books are) it cuddles you up in forest and that for me is priceless.

I am lucky enough to have the follow up books to this first gem, and I am excited to start on my next adventure with lady Draco. I strongly recommend this book and probably will ( I’m pretty sure) the rest of her books. I also found her page Traditional Witchcraft so go have a look at that too.

 

In terms of style I enjoy that she is more of a story teller like I mentioned earlier. It also makes me happy that old lore is a recurring topic and that we get to learn and bathe in the wonders of things that we will possibly never be able to fully comprehend.

I think I have exhausted my thesaurus and just writing this review makes the hairs on my body stand up in excitement and admiration.

 

Definitely worth the time it took to get to this book.twwf

Before Goodbye

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That morning she didn’t expect to wake. In fact she’d planned to never awake again. It was sunny, her head hurt a little, but apart from the head hurt, it didn’t feel like much of a failed suicide attempt.

Her food was cold when she got around to eating it; to her surprise her appetite had made an unexpected reappearance. She enjoyed every bite, and things seemed to be better. She mused that perhaps all it took was the bravity of facing her own mortality without fear… it was only after she had cleared her plate that she decided to get up and face the day.

Her phone rang as she was about to open the door. Luckily she hadn’t, because her mother’s worried voice echoed as she listened, not able to coherently respond to the rehearsed delivery of bad news.

It was meant to be her death, instead… the other got it right.

That other with the brown eyes and childish smile.

The other with her favorite lips pasted on almost perfectly… that other… no longer existed.

Suddenly the tasty food re exited without warning and her head threw her almost instantly in her own vomit. She was waiting for tears, or a heart attack or something that was other than the empty vessel she now related to.

The other … memory.

The girl in room  3 had no pills left to drown her life in and bleeding out would take too long.

The girl in room 3 buried both herself and the other that instant. She cut out the struggles and with a new clarity she realized it would have been better to breathe before saying goodbye.

Heritage Day

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Today is my last day

 

I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget

 

I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family

 

The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges

 

So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.

 

Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!

 

 

 

 

Push Me Out To Sea

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Wish I had a voice
Wish I could sing these thoughts to you
Maybe then the netted fingertips of poetry could captivate
This little bird I refuse to cage up
Wish there was a choice
Wish I didn’t need to wish to feel
To know how to let words crawl past the outskirts of my lips

Wish I knew what you are thinking
Wish I knew I feature in some of that
Does my face flash in your dreams for a second at least?

Sometimes I want to
Run, run, run
Away from you
Or is it from myself?
Would you hand me a
Cocked gun until we are stunned, calmed…done?

Wish I had a voice
Wish I could whisper
Wish I could touch
Wish
I wish
To not need to ever wish again

Look at the surface of my palm before you
Carefully lift the metal
Don’t touch me for your sake
My eyes will pretend not to scream out for you to just
Connect your warmth with mine

Graceful Nature

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Last week’s shrink-time brought with it a series of thoughts that I would like to share with you and I hope that the majority of you will be able to appreciate where this comes from.

Throughout the ages Christianity and Paganism have largely been at war with one another. Whether or not this is justifiable is not for me to decide and I am not going into that right now. I do however believe that Grace is an absolutely stunning concept and today I want to write a little about it.

In Christianity ‘Grace’ is the favor of God upon us… the forgiveness and blessing for those of us who admit our mishaps and believe… for those willing to walk the Christian path. Going deeper into it – Grace was given when Jesus of Nazareth died on a cross in order to re-kindle man’s relationship to God (aka Jesus’ papa).

Although this is a fairy minimal description of Grace, it is a big concept to grasp at first.

Please understand that as someone with a big Christian background I will always see the beauty in many of its teachings; however I am in no way trying to force my views on anyone. This is a blog and as such I feel free to write about ALMOST anything my heart desires.

So yesterday I was thinking about what Grace would mean to me as a Druid. I picked my brain apart but I just could not get to anything…

What is Grace for a Druid?

IS there Grace for a Druid?

Why is grace so important to me?

Later in the evening I was walking around feeling guilty about something I’d done and I instinctively looked up at the clouds (which by the way is the way I deal with my stuff [most times]) as I looked up at the grey formation of cotton-wool images… one rain drop kissed my face, then another so before I knew it I was staring at the sky as the much-anticipated first rain had finally made an appearance.

Well that’s when I figured that there really is Grace for a Druid, and personally I find it to be much bigger than the previously mentioned one. There are rain-drops that won’t avoid showering you to the bone because you insulted someone… there are autumn leaves that will dance happily around even if you’ve just broken someone’s little heart; we’re human we’re small and imperfect, some forgive and some don’t but regardless of the outcome Nature is ever constant. Some say she’s ever changing, I say ever re-incarnating. How about you?

I never want to lose faith in the notion that somewhere in every living thing is rooted an infinite goodness.

Faith, love, magic and nature… the reasons I picked the path I tread.