SECTION VII - THE CAULDRON

15. The Truth About Spells - by Sorcy SummerWind & Lady Vestalin 
16. The Soul of Little Lilac - by Sorcy SummerWind 
17. Sweet Scent of Roses - by Skurpio 
18. Goddess hears.. - by Drusea RiverSong 
19. Wild Herb Salad - by Baboo Kyra 
20. Moon Time and Maidenhood - by Baboo Kyra 
21. When Magick Doesn't Work - by Eric 
22. Deep Skies Magical Astrologie - by Sarolta G. DeFaltay 
23. The Ugly Duckling's Daughter - Baboo Kyra Finch 
24. Ride On Rhiannon - by BryteUnicorn 
25. The Wheel is Turning - by Luna Willowsong

The Truth About Spells
Sorcy SummerWind & Lady Vestalin

Do you REALLY need a spell to play with? DO you even know what you're asking for? For if you're not sure, you might open the door to a world that could send you straight into a nightmare. It may sound kind of attractive to the young seeker, oh, well, lets cast a spell and all is taken care of. Sounds too good to be true? Dear, that's because it IS. Nothing is that simple. In fact, spells, just like magick, is what we study to NOT use. There are other ways. Safer, and easier. Only when we are sure we know what we're doing do we dare to consider spellwork. Imagine, you ask for your house being protected from falling trees during a tornado. Well your house was. The tree fell on the neighbor. Whoops? You forgot to include the loophole of 'harm none'. Young one, there is no spell I can hand over to you, not to make you happy, or prettier, or to make that boy like you. It is YOU, and you alone who make things happen. It is a standing joke in the pagan community:
How do you recognize a wannabe witch? She asks for a spell.
So don't be a wannabe, be a true seeker, study, listen, and learn. Just to explain what spells are in the first place, and to get you off the notion of changing your eyecolor, or attempting to have someones hair fall out, my dear sis Lady Vestalin here shares what we believe in. Listen to her, it might safe you embarrassment and harm :)
Sorcy SummerWind

Spells are something that is done, by everyone, every day of their lives. Although many don't realize it as such, a simple wish is probably one of the most intense and common type of spell. How many times have you wished for something, and gotten it? As I grow older (I'm now 34), I am very careful about wishing. Time, and time again, things happen, and upon reflection, I often realize that it was something I wished for. The problem is HOW and exactly WHAT you are wishing for. (laughing out loud)... I remember one of my very first, somewhat selfish, spells - at the age of 12, I wished my hair would be curly, instead of so damned straight. Well, when I turned 21, I realized that my hair was turning curly. I remember thinking, "I should have been more specific about what kind of curl I wanted!" I wanted big, wavy curls, but instead, I now have a head of long, wild, corkscrew curls. Several times I wished for a man to come into my life. My wish came true, and I got exactly what I asked for. Unfortunately, I realized, too late, that he wasn't what I wanted. My mother used to say, "Watch what you wish for; it may come true." She was so right! One note, however: the only *wishes* for me, that usually come true are those that I "absent-mindedly" ask for. Consciously wishing for something, (like winning the lottery) doesn't come to be. It is the careless wish, when I'm stuck in traffic, hoping that @$$ would stay out of my way, then watching in horror, when he runs his car off the road... and realizing that my wish came true... so be careful! I'm one to live my life with the understanding of karma, and believe that much more can be gained by simply being and doing your best.

Sure, spells can be very involved, taking research and time to develop. They can be elaborately cast in a ritual with others, or meditated upon alone. Am I being vague? Well... spells are very personal. It's (almost) unheard of to find me offering spells to people. Or, on people, for that matter. :-) My advice to you is this: if you want something to come to be, than be sure you know what you want, and the reprocussions of your desires. Do not harm another, physically or otherwise, and be ever mindful of the 3-fold law (that is, that which you send out comes back to thee, baneful or blessing, it returns times 3). I also know, from experience, that spells must be worked in the mundane world, as well as within the spiritual realm. When I broke my toe, I visualized it healing (another common type of spell); but, I also stopped walking on it, allowing it time to heal. I believe that the spiritual and the physical/mundane walk hand-in-hand.

This probably isn't the information you wanted, but may, instead, be the information you needed... :-)

Blessings to you,

Vestalin

The Soul of Little Lilac
by Sorceress SummerWind

Sweet Scent of Rose
by Skurpio

With the sweet scent of rose
the morning bird flew.
Dripping upon others
her essence she imbued.

Sculpted of silk and twig
she opened wide her morning mouth
and drank of nature’s milk.

Mother’s orb beamed strongly upon her children’s heads
beckoning forth their radiant glow.
They opened their arms, pleading for more
and to them she sent forth her warmth.

Following her trail her children leapt and danced with mirth.

They sang their songs in joy and bliss.
Along the road they traveled to meet his soft dark kiss.

Prancing and whining they fretted and cried
yet could not stay their open eyes.

Under mother’s last kiss and father’s lullaby
they sank with the downing of the night.

Sleep my children they crooned as one.
Sleep deep until morning’s bird flies
with the sweet scent of rose.

by: Skurpio
28 October 1996

Goddess hears....

she sees what I have been
knows how hard I try
feels now that I am
knows now that I cry

she hears in hollow midnights
long past pain she now knows why
kiss the tear tracks from my pillow
hold the night back when I cry

she comes to me in darkest night
on the wind she bids me fly
holds me fast until the morning
my Goddess whispers comfort when I cry.....


Drusea' Riversong
p.a.h.b.
3/12/1999

Wild Herb Salad
by Baboo Kyra

Wild herb salad always depends on what you find, but here's the basic:

Minors' Lettuce (yum)
Chickweed
Cleavers
Milk Thistle (trimmed)
Dandelion leaves
Celadon leaves
Chickory leaves
Woodland violet flowers
Oxalis flowers (very sour, go easy on vinegar)
Purslane
Dead Nettles
Shepherds' purse
Cheeseweed (the little "cheese")
Sorrel

This is especially good with honey mustard dressing, given that the herbs tend to be a little bitter. The Oxalis and sorrel give the sour tang.

It's also yummy to add seeds like sunflower, poppy, sesame, pinola, etc.

Another good recipe is chickweed/cleavers/ nettles soup.

Gather and wash as much young nettle tops, chickweed and cleavers to fill a huge soup kettle. Cover with water and add quartered onions, a couple of carrots, some celery, peeled, seeded and quartered peppers, and a bouquet garni. If you're of a mind, you can also throw in a soup bone or two.Simmer this for about three hours. Then strain out the vegetables (I mix them with the dogs' food), and add a cup or so of barlet to the broth. Simmer until the barley is au dente.

This is a traditional Celtic spring tonic.

Blessed Be, BabooKyra

Moon Time and Maidenhood
by Baboo Kyra

MOON TIME AND MAIDENHOOD
by Baboo Kyra Finch

The women in my family reach their first bloods early. I was 10. I had just seen Peter Pan. It was traumatic!

The arrival of first bloods, sprouting breasts and hair, a passion for totally inappropriate romances and a mouth beyond belief, can be disconcerting for parents looking forward to a couple more years of childhood. Just hang in there. Remember what you did to your parents and know that this passes -- in about 10 years.

Knowing the imminent signs, I attacked the change vigorously. Both my daughters were dancers, taking classes at, not a ballet school, but "an academy." This meant five days a week, uniforms, and eating disorders.

It was a given that they would not use pads but would need to use tampons. They had seen girls using pads under their leotards, and decided death was a better choice.

Of course they knew the mechanics of their bodies. My older daughter asked the appropriate questions at the appropriate times and received appropriate answers. My younger daughter listened to every word and knew absolutely everything way too early. But then, my youngest was born a teenager and it was just a matter of chronology for her to catch up with herself.

My approach to masturbation was to tell them to do it well and enjoy it thoroughly. I suggested that they would not be able to advise someone else as to pleasing them without knowing how to do it themselves. This advice created the need for a short lecture on keeping it a private activity out of courtesy to other family members.

When they exhibited enough characteristics, (hair, mouth, breasts, etc.) to indicate that bleeding was immanent, I bought them a box of tiny, slender, dainty maiden tampons and told them to PRACTICE! This way, when they did get their first blood, they wouldn't have to deal with the mechanics of tampons for the first time. This plan worked out very well and both daughters have said they were grateful that their first bloods were so easy.

First bloods are a time of joyousness, mystery, entrance into the circle of women...cramps, hormones, attitude...

Prepare a "Blood Box." It should contain:
A box of tampons, a box of pads or whatever method you've chosen between you for absorbing blood;
A large chocolate bar (I prefer dark, light is for wimps, white isn't chocolate at all)
A good book of choice, sci fi, romance, easy to read and absorbing (pardon the pun, I couldn't resist);
Motherwort and/or Vitex tincture;
Chamomile tea;
A handkerchief or tissues;
The TV remote;
A Moon Pillow
Restock monthly.

For cramping here are some remedies: Vitex (Chaste Tree Berry) tincture; catnip and catmint, and Motherwort tincture. Also hemp and opium, but the availability and use of those is iffy and dangerous.

I hate the patriarchy telling me what I can or cannot use for medicinal purposes, but that's another gripe.

Chamomile tea is also a relaxant and an antispasmodic. Be sure of the quality because there is some lousy product out there. Chamomile should be Belgian or German, never Roman. It should smell strongly of apples mixed with pineapples, and be all flower heads, no foliage. It's very easy to grow in both garden and pots, and then you can be sure of the quality of the herb. Keep the flowers picked during the growing season and dry them in a basket. Once the flowers are thoroughly dry, keep them in a dark glass or ceramic jar with a tight lid.

I always prefer growing my own herbs or wildcrafting, as I have no faith whatsoever in the commercial "health food" industry.

Moon Pillow: Go to a feed store and get some pigeon feed. Millet is an excellent choice. Dump it into a large old sock, not too full, and sew the end closed. Put this in the microwave for a minute, longer if necessary, until it's comfortably warm. Put this over your womb. You'll find it to be amazingly soothing.

You can get very fancy and make the pillow out of hand-dyed silk, hemp, or the remnants of your daughter's "blanky." Add some herbs such as lavender, rosemary, and mint, to contribute a bit of aromatherapy.

Herbal bath: Comfrey is good for any kind of sore muscles, including uterine and pelvic girdle spasms. Take fresh or dried comfrey, some lavender, chamomile and rose petals, and, once again, put them in an old sock. (I never throw away socks.)

Tie the sock shut, put it in the tub and run very hot water to two or three inches. Let the herbs steep for about fifteen minutes, then fill the tub. Some Epsom salts are also nice. Add daughter, chocolate, a good book, and soak until attitude improves. Send her on her way, take the book, get another chocolate and get into the tub yourself. You probably need it more than she does.

First moon ritual can be with mother and daughter, all female family members, all family members, coven, and/or Pagan community. How big a to-do you create depends on how private your daughter is about herself. She should be the one to decide.

I was at a Dianic camp-out with about seventy-five other women, when one eleven-year-old bled for the first time. She was ecstatic! We had a ritual that night with all the women sharing their experiences, giving her gifts and welcoming her into the circle of women. The child gave us all what every female should have as a right of passage. She wore her red girdle proudly, complained smugly about cramps and crankiness, and turned down granola for chocolate. It was an awesome experience.

I make wreaths and wristlets out of pomegranate flowers and rose buds strung on copper wire for Moon gifts.

A sample ritual:
The participating women gather as close as possible to the first bloods. This is a time of women's mysteries. I prefer to keep the ritual Dianic. If that's not possible, however, a loving and supportive father can fill the bill. If the new maiden wants the whole community, go for it. It's her time and her rite.

This is a time for the young maiden to receive gifts: her first besom, an atheme to replace the child's wand, a small cauldron, a red robe or skirt, and other tools of her Craft.

The maiden can cast the circle, using her broom and/or atheme for the first time. In calling the quarters, invoke Goddesses whose archetypes will give strength and protection to a head-strong and adventurous young woman. For instance, Athena for air -- giving the wisdom not to get into too much trouble. O Shun, fresh wild water, Goddess of gentle passions and sweet romances. Pele, fire of the inner Earth, burns those who mean harm to and women. Gaia, earth, the strong, supportive, comforting Mother, healer of the inevitable broken hearts, and, in the center, herself, embodying the Goddess in her young body, mind and spirit!

Going around the circle, each woman can share her experiences with bleeding, handy hints regarding the care and feeding of the female body, information regarding the opposite sex, and any other Woman's Mystery. Give time for the Maiden to ask any questions she may have and receive answers and advice.

Share a libation of red juices. Eat juicy fruits, such as mangoes and peaches, and Moon cookies, sugar cookie circles painted with red icing. Pass the juice, "May you never thirst"; the food, "May you never hunger"; and a kiss, "May you never want for love."

Join hands and raise energy with the MAA chant. Release the energy, stating: "Now we set this power free; to our circle, we welcome thee; as we do will, so mote it be; as we do will, so mote it be!"

Ground. Pass the hankies and the food.

My matrilineal line tends toward breeding women. My grandmother had three sisters and one brother. My grandmother birthed my mother and her sister. I was one of three sisters and I have two daughters. My sister went and threw a monkey wrench into the works when her second child was a boy. I didn't believe it until I checked. Yup, a boy. He is a dear.

The relationship between mothers and daughters is a complicated and painful one. The story of Persephone and Demeter, or Kore and Ceres if you prefer, epitomizes this relationship. Mother and daughters love one another, play and garden and dress each other in flowers and leaves. Then, daughter develops into maiden and runs off with your worst nightmare and "goes to hell in a handbasket."

Mother is despondent. She weeps. She wonders what she did wrong. She misses her daughter terribly, but if her daughter calls, she can't resist pointing out all her faults. Daughter rarely calls.

Finally, mother creates something new. In the myth, it was a new season -- winter. She changes, has quests, adventures, and finds that having some free time isn't such a bad thing after all. But she continues to miss her daughter, painfully.

Finally, the daughter returns, but she is no longer a child. She is secure as a separate person, and has found her own identity. They look at each other clearly, and discover that not only are they alike, but both of them, horrors, are just like Grandma!

Rejecting the mother is a vital part of the maiden experience. Women who's mothers die or leave, and who cannot go through this process, always feel stuck in the nymph mode. They choose people whom they can reject, or who reenact the leaving of the mother. They can't grow up until they cut the tie.

Dad, if you have a daughter who does not have a mother, a good exercise is to invite a dead or absent mom to Samhain Dumb Supper. The daughter can just go ahead and reject her. The next year, invite her again and let your daughter forgive her. Repeat as needed.

There is your beautiful daughter, on whom you've showered thousands of dollars worth of ballet lessons, trendy clothes, and the toys you swore you would never buy (Barbi dolls). Suddenly she takes off with someone you can't stand. Take heart. She'll be back. Trust me.

When Magick Doesn't Work
By Eric
What do you do when magick doesn't work? Suppose you cast a spell (or pray to the Goddess or some other deity) for something extremely important, and nothing happens. What do you do next? Try again? Give up? Lose your religion?

This is the sticking point of most religions, including paganism. On the one hand, we are pulled by rationality, that great bug-bear of the spiritual life. Suppose you, for what ever reason, come think that you have a gorilla in your refrigerator. But its never there when you open the door. "Well, it's invisible in the light." Fine. But it's not visible by infrared if I drill a hole in the side of the refrigerator (which leaves the refrigerator light off). "Well, it's invisible all the time." Fine. But it never knocks over the orange juice, nor does it squish the butter. "Well, it's very agile and delicate" Fine. But your refrigerator weighs exactly what weighed the day you bought it (and that is the weight of all the other refrigerators of the same brand), plus the weight of the food. "Well, the gorilla inside has no mass." Now things are not fine, anymore. What is the difference between your refrigerator gorilla and no gorilla at all? You've got a massless, invisible, *inert* gorilla. How exactly does this gorilla differ from no gorilla at all? Rationality dictates as this point that you give up your belief in your refrigerator-inhabiting gorilla, that you face facts and conclude that there is no gorilla at all in your refrigerator. Rationality says that you should believe in only what you can get evidence for.
vBut on the other hand, we have the immediately felt spiritual quality of our lives. We can *feel* our familiars, the Goddess, the Moon, the trees, etc. We can *hear* them talking to us. And these feelings, these "sounds" are decidedly different from what people experience when they are hallucinating or when they are deluded because of drugs or too much alcohol or some mental illness. Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, we can feel the vast but ineffable connection between us and the rest of life, between us and the slow wheeling of the planets and stars, and just possibly between us and the murmur of distant galaxies. How can something so immediate, so real, be wrong? What could be better evidence than that? After all, my belief in these things is really not much worse off than my belief that you all exist out there on the internet, even though I've not met the majority of you. Meeting you wouldn't help, either, though. How do I know that there is an external world at all? Perhaps I am imagining the whole thing. I believe in the external world because I *experience* it. So shouldn't I likewise believe in connectedness of all life, in the Goddess whispering as she is scudding through the still-sleeping trees on tonight's full moon?

Once, a Jewish friend of mine said "After the Holocaust, belief in God is impossible." Failure is failure. In the face of certain failures, you must, as a rational creature, give up certain beliefs (e.g., humans can't fly by flapping their arms). Moreover, there is a certainly intentionality in this kind of atheism. Who wants to believe in a God that would let the Holocaust happen, or that was too weak to prevent it?
A priest I know once said to me "When your prayers are not being answered, God isn't ignoring you, he's saying 'No.'" But what kind of God would say "No" to a dying 7 year old girl who is praying that her cancer be cured? Who wants to worship a God like that? Or a Goddess?
Many of my pagan friends say that failed magick and suffering are opportunities for growth and development. What a crock. We wouldn't need to "grow" and "develop" so much (read, "learn to endure pain and suffering") if the universe was a better run place where the innocent didn't suffer, the strong didn't pray on the weak, and love really was the order of the day.
What if magick works with about the same probability of pure chance? Then, what is the difference between a sometime Goddess and no Goddess at all? What if pure chance is the rule of the universe? That life even started here was pure chance. It was pure chance that 65 million years ago a comet crashed into what would become the Gulf of Mexico and wiped out the dinosaurs thereby giving a small rodent with 5 fingers a chance to radiate into hundreds of recently empty niches. Your very existence is pure chance: had some other egg from your mother or some other sperm from your father combined, you would not be here today, someone else would. Where would you be had they used birth-control?
It is irrational (or immoral) to believe in a deity that could have prevented the Holocaust (or whatever horror you want to put in here), but didn't. If your parents were all-powerful, perhaps you would never suffer. But your parents are not all-powerful. Nothing is. Still, perhaps it is rational to believe that we are part of a whole, and that failures of one corner of the universe to help another corner are not failures of communication, of connectedness.
For some reason, anything worth doing involves anguish (in fact, anguish may be part of the definition of "worth"). Our spiritual beliefs are important to us, our spiritual practices are worth doing. The anguish is that our rationality and our spirituality are in conflict. At the end of the day, perhaps this is the best argument for the non-existence of the Goddess or any other benevolent deity: perhaps only in an indifferent, cold universe would a species' deeply felt wants and needs collide so seriously with their science and their rational thought. ... But perhaps it is also an argument for something deeper -- that life really is all one, that the Goddess is embodied in chance, and that while the failures of magick are Universal failures where the Universe in one part wants what another part can't deliver, still, a failed spell, a failed prayer, at least represents the universe reaching out to itself, trying to connect. And perhaps it's the trying that matters.

Deep Skies Magical Astrology
By Sarolta G. DeFaltay

Hello everyone!
Beltane approaches, the most festive time of year! Enjoy this article: there are some GREAT energies to tap into this spring! While you're at it, check out the New Moon Magic Ritual for your sign at:
http://www.enteract.com/~deepsky/
We're bringing lots of NEW articles and features to our site... I'll keep you posted. Thanks for your interest and continued support. Blessed Be! -Sarolta
=====Rituals of The Earth:=====
================BELTANE ==================
-c.1999 Sarolta G. DeFaltay
The Maiden Goddess now comes of age at Bealtaine, and the fertility of the earth is at its height. This is the time of the sacred marriage, the union of the male and female principle, and can be a time to unify and balance our inner polarities as well, integrating the solar/lunar energies within.
The most joyous of holidays, rituals for love and fertility are accompanied by music, feasting and celebration; even the trees are decorated with many colored ribbons, and bouquets of new spring blooms are on every table and altar!
Planetary Themes
(Chart data: May 1, 1999 ,12:00 AM EDT, Washington, DC...although the ritual can be done anytime during the first few days of the month.)
A strong alignment exists between four points, creating a need for balance between personal needs and career demands, and intergrating personal resources with those of another. The alignment is called a Grand Cross, with the Sun, Moon, Uranus, and Vesta at the four points of the cross.
The Sun is in Taurus is in the fourth house next to Saturn, meaning we may be able to utilize this stabilizing energy to initiate improvements in our homes that will add lasting value and beauty, as well as utilizing a grounded discipline to maintain our inner harmony through meditation and regular spiritual practices.
The Moon represents our emotional needs and desires, and is in the tenth house of authority, in the sign of Scorpio. We may be in tune now to see how we can best use our personal power most effectively. Uranus in Aquarius opposite Vesta may signify creative ways to work with others, and finding common ground to pool resources and meet the collective need.
Beltane Herbal Lore
Almond: Symbolic of true love transcending death.
Angelica: Ritual bath; "Bringer of Light"; Protection, self-blessing.
Cinquefoil: Contains needed energy to manifest one's ideas.
Clover: Animals, good luck, strength.
Frankincense: Consecration, magic, purification, success, psychic ability.
Hawthorn: Classic flower used to decorate maypole. Fertility.
Ivy: wear wreaths of ivy at Beltane,decorate altar; fidelity and valor
Juniper: used as incense to purify the home in preparation for Beltane
Marigold: ritual bath; prophetic dreams, favorable court verdict, attracts respect.
Orchid (Orris root): Burn powdered root for love and passion
Roses: Love and joy; multi-colored roses on Beltane altar
Woodruff: Attracts wealth; victory for athletes; protection.
Ritual Bath: Rose petals, Angelica, Clover, Marigold. Place any or all herbs in cheesecloth and tie well; run under tap. You can also make a strong tea from the herbs, strain, and pour into the bath. Light pink candles annointed with rose oil to represent the potential growth and fertility of this holiday, and give thanks for the joy that life brings. Bathe yourself in the herbs and the springtime energy, clearing away anything that no longer needs to go with you. After your bath, bring your candles with you to the circle, and place them on or around your altar.
The Altar: Use a large flat stone as your altar, and place it in your garden, or by an eastern facing window. A bowl of nuts and spring flowers in many colors enhance the setting, and are symbolic of the potentiality of life within.
You will need four candles: green, white, pale blue and orange.
Ritual: cast the circle by visualizing white light circling clockwise around you, and call in the four directions: East for the Air element,South for Fire, West for Water, and North for the Earth element.
Prepare incense by bringing the ingredients into your ritual circle, and add each herb one at a time, while grinding by hand with a mortar and pestle and focusing on your goal as well as the properties of each herb as it is added. Consecrate your incense by dedicating it to Venus, Goddess of Love and Fertility. Use any of the following: Rose Petals, Benzoin, Frankincense, Cinnamon, Sandalwood oil. Consecrate to Venus. Light incense.
Candles: The green candle represents the nourishing aspect of Taurus. How can you add lasting value or beauty to your environment? Focus clearly on your intent as you light the candle.
The white candle represents our emotional needs. Write down what needs are in conflict with duties, and what you'd like to do to resolve them. Repeat as before.
The pale blue candle represents Uranus in Aquarius. Where do you need to revolutionize the way you utilize your resources? Write down ways you think you could approach your goals from an unconventional angle.
The orange candle represents Vesta in Leo. Write down what you are willing to dedicate yourself to throughout this growing season.
When you feel the ritual is complete, burn each paper as you focus once again on the intention of the goal, releasing the energy to the wind and elemental helpers.
Ground the energies by burying the ashes and candle wax, affirming the energy inherent within will soon be reborn anew. Blessed Be.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Beyerl, Paul. A Compendium of Herbal Magick. Custer, WA: Phoenix Publishing, Inc., 1998.
Budapest, Zsuzsanna. The Holy Book of Women's Mysteries. Oakland, CA: Wingbow Press, 1989.
Cunningham, Scott. Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs. St. Paul, MN: Llewellyn Publications, 1985.
Farrar, Janet & Stewart. The Witches' Goddess. Custer, WA: Phoenix Publishing, Inc., 1987.
George, Demetra. Asteroid Goddesses. San Diego, CA: ACS Publications, 1986.
Hopman, Ellen Evert. A Druid's Herbal. Rochester, VT: Destiny Books, 1995.
Smith, Steven R. Wylundt's Book of Incense. York Beach, ME: Samuel Weiser, Inc., 1996.
Walker, Barbara G. The Woman's Dictionary of Symbols and Sacred Objects. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 1988.
Zalewski, C.L. Herbs In Magic and Alchemy. Dorset, UK: Prism Press, 1990.

Sarolta G. DeFaltay is an astrologer and tarot consultant, and teaches classes in Solitary Magic in Chicago. She works with clients to create personal rituals based on individual needs and astrological cycles. She is a regular contributor to SageWoman magazine, and maintains a website at: http://www.enteract.com/~deepsky/

The Ugly Duckling's Daughter by Baboo Kyra Finch

I'm sure you have heard the story of the Ugly Duckling...how her egg accidentally rolled into a duck's nest, and how she lived as an outcast among the ducks until she discovered that she was a swan, not a duck, after all. Well, this is the tale of what happened after she joined the flock of swans and began a family of her own. This story is about the Ugly Duckling's Daughter.

Her name was Swanlinda, or Beautiful Swan. She did not have an easy time. Having been reared by ducks, she had no swannish role models. She had experience as an outcast, but none as a member of a group.

She was very cautious. She watched the behavior of what seemed to be the "in crowd." She was beautiful, and she was smart. She was good at mimicking socially acceptable mannerisms.

Swans hold their heads high upon their necks, looking disdainfully at the world. She held her head highest and straightest, and looked neither left nor right. She darted her beak into the water for a snack without the slightest splash, never missing or dropping her prize. She remained aloof from all other lake residents and visitors, consorting only with other swans.

She became the paragon of swannishness. Other swans pointed to her as an example for the young cygnets. "See Swanlinda?," they would say, "She wasn't born into our flock, but even so, take note of her excellent manners. Do try to be more like her"! They never realized how difficult it was for her to do those things they knew from hatching. She had to remain alert constantly, checking herself in the reflecting water, minding each sound she uttered. The most important thing for her was to fit in and to be an outcast no longer.

She managed to convince herself that the swans' cry was not raucous, but assertive; that swimming in circles all day was not boring, but dignified. She learned how to conform, to fit in, to belong.

Being the perfect example of a Hen Swan, she was courted by all of the Cobs. Swans mate for life, so she was very careful to choose a mate of high social status and excellent background. The flock roundly approved the match. They settled down to mated life together.

That spring they became parents to 13 perfect cygnets. The first twelve hatchlings were well behaved. They were sources of joy and pride to both their mother and father. However, the last and smallest was a difficult chick from the day she broke through her egg with her egg tooth.

Cygnetta looked the perfect baby swan, but her behavior was anything but acceptable. While her siblings followed their parents in perfect formation, she darting off investigating everything in the lake. Just learning to be a swan didn't satisfy her. She would copy all the birds and animals.

She followed the ducks, waddling and trying to quack and balanced awkwardly on lily pads with the frogs. Worst of all, she loved hanging with the geese! Now, swans considered geese large, ungainly, noisy, dirty, rude imitations of swans. Cygnetta, tiny in their company, would run with the geese through the dirty farmyard, bullying the other animals. With the geese, she stole corn from the chickens and oats from the horses. They chased the farmer's children and dogs, scaring them with flapping wings and pecking beaks. She would return home muddy, unpreened, exhausted, and utterly happy.

Her parents were appalled. Her father blamed it all on her mother's unorthodox background. Her mother blamed it on her father's busy schedule and lack of parental attention. They bickered on and on as to whose fault it was, while the other swans watched Cygnetta's antics with horror. They, of course, felt both parents were at fault, Why, what she needed was a firm wing!

Cygnetta had inherited Swanlinda's beauty, but her attitude was her own. Both beauty and attitude grew day by day. The young cobs found her intriguing. They followed her, courted her, and lied to each other about her morals. She ignored them. When her mother begged her to please choose a mate and settle down, she exclaimed, "Those cobs are boring, arrogant and have no imagination whatsoever. This pond is far too small to be the entire world." Her poor mother would reply, "Just wait. Raising a brood will prove to be quite an adventure, you'll see!"

But off Cygnetta would fly...small, graceful, and trying with all her heart to produce a suitable honk.

Swanlinda took Cygnetta to speak with the flock elders. They lectured her on correct swan deportment.

"The swan is an elegant and regal bird, the royalty of feathered beings. We are born to grace the cultivated waters of kings and emperors, and to impress all with our beauty and grace. We do not chase children and livestock; we do not fly off with other species, abandoning our dignity and responsibilities; and, mostly, we do not honk!"

Cygnetta would sit in the sun, watching the diamond ripples in the lake and the living arrows of flying geese overhead. She thought about how swans' voices seemed so raucous, out of keeping with their looks. She thought of how interesting were the lives and sounds of other animals. She thought about everything but the droning lecture being given her by the flock elders.

Meanwhile, her poor mother was really beside herself. After all her efforts to conform and belong, to give a place of prestige and respect to her family within the flock, here was her daughter who gave not one feather about the family's reputation. She feared becoming the outcast once more, just because her daughter could not resist flying off with those silly geese. As much as she loved Cygnetta, she did not understand her at all. Didn't that cygnet understand how important community acceptance was to a flocking bird?

She swung from anger to horror to fear and back to anger. She begged, pleaded, bribed, threatened, cajoled, wept, but all to no avail. As soon as Swanlinda turned her back, off flew Cygnetta to do who knows what with who knows whom!

Cygnetta was fully grown. She was small but strong. She was willful and magnificent. It was autumn.

Cygnetta went to her parents and announced, "Mother, Father, I love you dearly, but this lake is too small a world for me. I am going to migrate with the geese!"

Her parents recoiled in shock and fear. "You cannot go with the wild geese. They go to foreign lands, with strange creatures and dangers. They go where things are different!"

Cygnetta replied gently, "I must follow my spirit. I must go where the wild geese go."

She nodded her beak to her parents in a gesture of farewell, and off she flew.

Her parents watched the arrow shooting through the autumn sky, with a small speck flying valiantly in the formation of larger birds. They watched until the geese were out of sight. Then they sighed, with sorrow, a little envy, and relief.

Rhide On Rhiannon - byBryteUnicorn

There was a prince of Dyfed
Who sought what fate would send
And to his wondering eyes appeared
A lady come round the bend
Her golden beauty his heart endeared
He vowed that they should wed
(Chorus)
So ride on Rhiannon, maintain a sure pace
You move in your own time untouched by the chase
And the veils of Annwyn you'd part
All to find the joy of your heart, oh
Rhiannon Queen of the Fae, oh
Rhiannon Great Queen of the Fae
They feasted in her father's hall
A guest called for a boon
Pwyll's foolish head gave Rhiannon's hand
But she turned tables and soon
They swiftly journeyed to Pwyll's own lands
Bestowing gifts on all
(Chorus)
Abducted was the son she bore
Their watch her ladies failed
Her innocence fell upon deaf ears
Her character was assailed
To bear the false tale to all who'd hear
Was what she must endure
(Chorus)
Her son was found that Beltane Eve
By Teirnyon so kind
His wife and he raised him tall and strong
Until they did come to find
This was the child who was lost so long
At last she was believed
(Chorus)
Her tale does find a happy end
It glads my heart to say
With son and husband she'd reunite
Rhiannon's pain swept away
With joy they feasted all through the night
With their new faithful friends
(Chorus x2)
Rhiannon Great Queen of the Fae!

The Wheel is Turning
by Luna WillowSong


The yearning, the longing....so little time....the wheel is turning

The hunter, the horned one in his prime, calls to her impatiently in the wild tattoo of her heart.

Too long in winter's darkness, grown accustomed to the numbness, she is awakened gently by the verdant scent of pine, a whisper in the breeze. She lingers there in her maiden's bower, now outgrown by maternity, like mist o'er meadow on early summer's morn. A nocturnal flower, reluctant to yield to the Sun.

Oh, but the yearning...the longing...so little time....the wheel is turning.

Past the willow that already weeps, separated from oak and pine by tears, to the forest she runs on winged feet to find him there in the clearing, waiting in blazing glory. Her garments melt away in the heat of passion's fire. His blade to her chalice pierces her heart. For in the joining is the knowledge they must part.

But the yearning.....the longing.....so little time.....the wheel is turning.

Passion spent, lingering in afterglow, in violet shadows of dusk, they cling, wishing to embrace for all eternity. They watch as day yields reluctantly to night.

The yearning......the longing......so little time......the wheel is turning.

Luna Willowsong