A maiden from Chile

The Morrighan has to be saluted in this post, for She took a decision and judged us well. Well matched, well chosen for the task. When has She ever done things ill? She paired us, two witches, to welcome people and lead rites in her honour in a small town in the centre of Chile. Love entered our lives when the task was accepted and doors opened wide to form a community in a new way. We flourished under the Morrighan's gaze.

Lammas: when the God dies

The wheat has been harvested and the chaff lies still on the fields. The sun daily burns the plants with its heat and water is nowhere to be found. There is a feeling of great strength in the land but also of being just one step away from balance. The lend slowly moves summer towards autumn but too slow for the plants, too slow for the animals. The Old rites might bring the balance back or at least keep away most of the harm. Who knows.... it feels as if the God is not being honoured, not being observed in his yearly struggle to give himself as the sacrifice: perhaps the rituals are as much part of the process as His self given over and in abdicating this responsibility, we curtail the power and doom the suffering creatures who cannot but be the sacrifice without our help.

A poem for him

EL



Te llevara a conocer el interior de una llama,

escuchar el viento rugir,

asustar a los niños llamando duendes,

esconder la luna para que no vea

lo que la haria sonrojar.



Se dice eterno y quien podria refutarlo

cuando sabe el nombre de dios



Pide pescado para cenar,

prepara brebajes e inciensos

de yerbas tomadas por mis manos.



Pierde bufandas tan rapido como las compra:

un Dr Who chilensis

"made in heaven"