• river
    Poetry

    The Water by Morrigan Hunter

    As I rose for the first time in an eternity and Ambled out my door and felt the warmth hit my near translucent skin and begin to heat it The smothering heat engulfed me and I struggled to breathe, short of breath from lack of activity I worked my way trudging toward the side of the river to escape the sun into the shady portion of the bank. As I reached the river bank I inhaled the smell of thick air tinged with marine life. It hung heavy in the sticky humidity. I leaned over and decided to peer down, And I found that as I gazed into the murky…

  • girl with paint on her face
    Poetry

    Wood by Ruth Humphreys

    Fear on the edge of creativity Love on the edge of danger A plaiting of ideas, fears, loves It is the same here Tell me what is your story? What is it you need to express? What is it you want to share with the world? I see you humans, you can not disguise it Keep creating, keep writing. It keeps you alive. Share poems stories throw paint at the walls. Feel the deliciousness taste the words, sharp, sour, sugar coated, bitter, gall We are alive in this moment. Go to the garden, smell the soil, rub it between your fingers Bring it inside, add water, place your hands in…

  • Salmon jumping in a river
    Poetry

    Bloodroot

    By Charlotte Hussey   I ride on the back of a salmon, listening to the swish of the overhanging branches. They rush by rustling overhead, to the slap of his tail against water. He slides, rippling between boulders and plunges us upriver. Choppy waves lap the limestone banks, their echoes filled with the susurrations of not-quite-human voices.   I ride on the back of a salmon, breathing in the raw mud smells, the rot of drowned logs and spent amber leaves, the watery scents of floating reeds and grasses, and the pitchy odor of a brush fire on the near bank. Out of its billowy smoke, a figure drifts towards…

  • woman sleeping on a bed of flowers
    Poetry

    Gwydion Makes Leu a Wife

     By Charlotte Hussey At dawn I drop armfuls of leafy plants, buds on slender stalks, frail, scented blossoms, hundreds upon hundreds— into a vat of river water.   I stir from edge to center, chaos to order, watch sunlight reflect off the pin-wheeling liquids, ridged with tiny waves, like crimped, opening petals.   Slowly the vat’s surface settles, gathering to it the colors of field, forest, and pleasure garden to seed some small, fleshy thing, not of father not of mother, in the cooling mash.   The full moon pours down into her creamy folds as into the cobwebbed veils of a mushroom. “Woman, woman I have summoned you here…

  • Tree at river embankment
    Poetry

    Rhiannon’s Throne

    By Charlotte Hussey It stands primly at the pond’s edge, fashioned from the salvaged boards of a damaged canoe. Its back rises up so high that any pair of sagging shoulders, any spine, if leaned against it, might straighten like those of some proud queen; stripped of all adornment, its seat waits empty, bluish with shadow.    Its wavy grains, opened by the seas, suggest stretch marks, or muscles pulled thin and apart in agony. Rocks, sands have scraped gashes, as did the bony claws that reached through the blackthorn hedge to steal the just born Pryderi from Rhiannon, asleep and bloodied on this her perilous throne.   Elegant reeds bend…

  • lioness
    Poetry

    A Lion

    Last night I dreamt of a lion By Ruth Humphreys Last night I dreamt of a lion. The moon was full, she met me by a childhood stream. I walked with her equals, calm, poised Inside screaming. This was a rite. A little faster, she caught up, her mouth open considering her prey. Her head on my chest, playing with my fingers, a gentle bite. I sensed others fear around me, willed them not to approach. I removed my hand and held my breath. Her heavy body on mine, resting. It was complete, she was mine and I was hers. Last night I dreamt of a lion. Ruth Humphreys is…

  • Artistic Expressions,  Spiritual Art

    Divine Mother and Her Children

    I celebrate Mother Earth and the multiple aspects of the Divine Feminine.  “Divine Mother and her children” has been a wonderful journey into softness and it still touches my heart very much.  Under the benevolent gaze of Divine Mother, there we are all walking on our path in this incarnation. I have been Inspired by the amazing artist Rassouli.    www.danielletonossi.com

  • Book Excerpt

    Two Excerpts from Minerva’s Owls

     (Homebound Publications, 2017) By Mary Petiet In Minerva’s Owls, Mary Petiet weaves a fascinating and colorful web of yoga, healing, and Western wisdom traditions. Filled with the infinite knowing of the feminine divine, this slim volume is packed with enduring wisdom. You will recover yourself in these pages.-Trista Hendron, author of the Girl God series. Minerva’s Owls is the story of our connection through history, time, and place. We live in a time of modern miracles, but the price we pay is disconnection from nature, each other, and sometimes our very humanity. How did we get here, and how can we reconnect? Minerva’s Owls offers a positive way forward through…

  • Featured Articles,  Pagan Life

    30 Day SOA Challenge – 6

    Editor’s Note: This 30 Day Challenge will run in weekly segments with 5 days per segment. Each subsequent segment will be linked to the previous one. Click here for Days 21-25. THE SOA 30 DAY CHALLENGE Days 26-31 By Robin Corak Day 26: Ooh! Shiny! If you like working with crystals, think about what crystals might be associated with each goddess, station, sacred site, Avalonian Holy Day and so on. Experiment using them within your Avalonian work. Crystals not your thing? You can do the same activity with herbs, oils, colors, foods, etc. Day 27: Trance Posture. Try your hand at one of the Avalonian trance postures The trance postures…