This Blog has become a forum for a number of serious Pagan women to post and create. Our object is to provide a voice.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Goddess in Snow by Barbara Carvallo

Under this perfect mantle of snow little iris, Spring tulips, daffodils and honeysuckle wait their turn at the light. Goddess presides over all.

"My Dreams Are in Color" by Jackie B. Steel

There is a special place that I see where a maiden is dancing in the dazzling brilliance of a stars light. She is feeling and expressing how alive and unafraid she is. In Color I can feel her joy of life.
I see a small boy who has captured an injured bird to breathe warmth upon its small and fragile body. He laughs as the feathers are tickling inside his hands. In color he heals the bird and learns much about life. In light of his knowledge he sets the bird free into the winds of forever.

There is a rainbow that reach's from sky nation to the grass, in color I can see a gentle man nurturing this grassland and loving her. He touches and tends to life, the foods and herbs to sustain it. This gentle farmer, whose humble joy is the rain softly falling. His face holds lines from smiling broadly in the stars light.

I see a woman wading into the sea and reaching for the dolphins who laugh and play. In color she holds out her hands to embrace another life. This woman who delights in the rhythm of the sea that they share together so freely. In her heart she knows the peace and joy in allowing.

In this very special place even the turning of the world can transform the crystal laced forests of Winter to the fresh breezes of Spring. Turns and the fertile fullness of Summer to the color of change and completion of Autumn.

I see an old woman whose hands have given birth and cared for loved ones who have passed on. She will very wisely and abruptly cut away the end of a plants life so that its seeds can reach for the light without the shadow of its parent. In her eyes are the colors of mystery, and things we are bound to learn. This woman who delights in her cat and feeling that she IS love.

I hear an old man who continues the tale of how things were and on. This old man so enjoys telling of all the challenge and adventure that life has given him. In his being is the color of learning all he cared to know.

When the black and white of contracts and deeds, of governments and slaves, of rich and poor, of well being or illness start to close my view. I can remember and feel there is enough for all if we are wise in procreation. If we share gently and humanely. This I know with all that I am and my dreams are always in color.

J. Brandon Steele -1987

Thursday, February 19, 2015


the wind caught hold of the tiny seed and she felt for a moment a sense of purpose
falling down past the tree tops and branches
small birds sang
tiny insects smiled
she felt just a bit of the sudden stop before the gentle earth wrapped around her and she settled within
she rested and then she began to poke her beautiful green above the gentle earth
the flowers were beautiful
the flowers were perfect in their colour
the flowers were positioned
the flowers were named
the flowers were wanted and loved
flowers have identity
flowers have family
flowers have purpose
the tiny seed grew among the perfect flowers
the tiny seed had a name also
not good enough--weed
not perfect enough--weed
neither positioned nor family
the tiny seed
now a milkweed
tried to blend with the flowers
tried to join with the garden
tried so hard to fit in
her only friend though was a caterpillar
a caterpillar who fed on her green leaves
in time the caterpillar no longer came to visit
and the milkweed grew weak and tired from loneliness
it was too hard now to try to fit into the garden and the milkweed began to fall
the tears from the butterfly dropped gentle upon the withered leaves of the milkweed
giving awareness
of purpose
giving credibility to the name weed
giving love and gratitude
giving tomorrow a reason to be..................................................
blessings to all who understand..................