• 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…

  • Image of full moon through trees
    Poetry

    Moon Blessings

    By Susan Morgaine I lay upon my bed Beneath the window, shade raised Bathed in the moonlight I am blessed   I hear her as She calls to me I slip silently from my bed and out the door   I feel the grass, cold and damp beneath my feet as I walk toward my sacred circle illuminated by her radiance   I close my eyes, lift my head, open them She is there in all of Her shining beauty   I feel my eyes glistening as I gaze upon Her, bringing Her into myself, Her light, Her energy.   I quietly return to bed Beneath the window, shadow raised…

  • https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Main_Page
    Featured Articles

    The Awen

    By Joanna van der Hoeven The awen symbol is based on an original design by the 18th-19th century Druid revivalist, Iolo Morganwg. It consists of three lines falling to the right, centre and left. Modern Druidry incorporates the original source point of three dots, which can either be seen as points of light or drops from the cauldron of the goddess Ceridwen. The awen symbol represents, among other things, the triple nature of the Druid path, incorporating the paths of Bard, Ovate and Druid. It is not an ancient symbol, but a modern Druid symbol, used widely by Druids the world over, regardless of their opinion on Iolo and his work.…

  • By meral akbulut
    Poetry

    Normal Beauty

    Normal Beauty By Heather Elizabeth Warren Seeing your faces across the table the sun shining in from behind   we are safe. we are alive. we are smiling.   my heart can breathe with normal conversations   who knew petty arguments about special diets would be such a touching reprieve   hearing your wishes are to seek gentle love moves the hearts of mourning doves and opens the Universe to a thousand joyful praises   Gentle love is what we’ve always deserved   instead we got the brash and harsh kind   Normal. Life might go back to Normal.   Where we can look at each other in awe of…

  • Poetry

    Desert Rose

    Desert Rose By Heather Elizabeth Warren Her mother dropped her in the dry, undernourished soil Alone, without others to tend her Invisible, nearly dead Standing still With little ground to walk on sun with a scarce few dew drops is what she fed on somehow she blooms by the miracle of perseverance & stillness no one to thank but her own inner strength   Heather has written and self-published a collection of poems called, Gringa Haikus based on her travels in Mexico. She also wrote and self-published a children’s book called The Stellar Queen of Oaxaca. She loves poetry as a quick form to get profound or emotional truths across.…

  • Poetry

    Balance

    Balance By Danamar Laugh and Play Sing and Dance How easily a child Finds Balance While we struggle To relearn, Remember The spirit calls The pen awaits The body yearns Come play! Come laugh! Come sing! Too busy we say Too tired we say Too aged we say Not true cries our heart Not so sings our soul Nay! roars our mind Life awaits The clock ticks on Wait not too long. Mary Sander (Danamar) is a writer, sometimes sculptor and painter and has been a member of the Sisterhood Of Avalon since Calan Gaeaf 2014. She is passionate about the Earth and all of the Life it sustains, relationships…