Tag Archive | mother

Hail Lupercal!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
In all Her many guise!
The Tearing One,
Who fills the dark,
The Mother of everything!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
Hail the Wild One!
Hail Her Get,
Hail Her Twins,
The Dancers of the Dark!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
Hail the Hooded Three!
Hail fair Spinner,
Hail sly Weaver,
Hail the dreaded Cutter now!

Hail Lupercal!
O hail the Wolf,
And hail the Keeper Four,
White Fame and Red,
Green Flame and Blue,
Hail the mighty blowing Winds!

Hail Lupercal!
Oh hail the Wolf,
Hail the Goat and Wolf in one!
The feast each year,
An offering to God Herself!

~Hail Lupercal! a poem of Lupercalia by Bethany “Lorekeeper” Davis, February 18, 2017


From Blessed Womb and Serpent’s Seed

From Blessed Womb and Serpent’s Seed
A Summer Solstice Poem
By Muninn’s Kiss

Summer’s heat has come again,
And with it a growing womb.
The union formed of May’s young flowers,
Begins to start to show.
The risen lord’s seed runs strong,
The laughing queen was ripe.
In summer’s heat, her sweat is sweat,
The warmth that forms within.
She smiles sweetly in Solstice sun,
Spring’s rain fades away.
The white veil gone, her golden hair,
Darkens to chestnut brown.
New moon’s time, a darkened moon,
A bonfire burning high.
The dancers dance, round and round,
A fever burning high.
The Horned King sits close by her side,
His smile as big as hers.
The summer sun it rises bright,
Round like her growing womb.
The moon moves on and starts to grow,
Just like her unborn Child.
Summer’s heat has come again,
And with it a growing womb.
The womb will grow to harvest time,
The Child that will be born.
From blessed womb and serpent’s seed,
The Mother of all life.

From Her Mother’s Sacred Skirts

Birth of Stars
(NASA, Chandra, 10/7/08)
Image fromĀ NASA’s Marshall
Space Flight Center Flickr page

From Her Mother’s Sacred Skirts
By Muninn’s Kiss

There she stands,
In the midst of Space,
God Herself is here.
Great Mother of all,
The sacred Womb,
From whom we all have come.
Robes of Darkness,
Deepest Night,
All stars shine from it.
A thousand suns,
A million lights,
Upon Her sacred skirts.
In Her Pleasure,
Life conceived,
A child is born today.
A baby girl,
A wild one,
Young Nimue coming forth.
In the midst,
Of darkest Night,
A little girl comes forth.
Nimue’s seen,
Beneath the skirts,
Peaking out at us.
Slowly stepping,
Out to us,
From her Mother’s sacred skirts.