I walk among the trees and notice the changing, falling, and decaying leaves. Dark brown acorns, roasted from these long, hot dog days, the snap of dry, brittle twigs, and the still and murky water in the creek near my home, confirm the Earth has tilted toward winter.
She pivots, about to dip with a moment of realization of Her
increased knowledge and future success. In the next moment, She mimics a dog who shakes water from its fur after a lovely swim, and She breaks free from the past year’s failed efforts and licks her wounds.
And then Earth, our home, will nap, absorbing all that is good and strong and bountiful. Sweet dreams of good times to come, hope hangs from a moonbeam, until that solitary moment when the pregnant pause of Winter Solstice arrives. Then she will wake, hoping for humanity to prevail. To revive her. This is also my hope, my dream.
So, at this Witch’s New Year, I make a stand and I say a vow. I will be more present and I will listen. I will absorb the quiet and know that in the silent stillness I will hear Her voice. She will guide me and I will follow. She of a thousand Summer’s Ends and New Year Beginnings, She is where hope abounds and love cascades toward every beating heart, every unfurling leaf, and every stone left unturned.
To sit in Her loud silence, Her void fills me, I hold the whole world in my hands, to cherish it, to adore it, and to bless all with sincere compassion.
Blessed Be, So Mote it Be! It is So!
Rev. Tina Deason, High Priestess xo