REMEMBERING OUR WAYS
Memories and knowledge are not just passed down from person to person by word of mouth, no-- we carry it in our very bones, in our DNA. Knowledge of plants for food and medicine, knowledge of the cycles of the land and how to live in tune with the Earth, knowledge of wellness and birthing babies in moonlight...
Come, Forest Womban, Wild Witch, Moon Mama. Come to the Place of Remembering. Sit by the Ancestor Fire, deep in the earth, where the stories of a hundred thousand years are painted on the walls. Come listen to the Elders speak, hear their words in your bones, and Know...
Kiss your children goodnight and slip out into the star-lit darkness. Gather in the Moonlight, whispering the tales of our grandmothers by firelight that the stories may be remembered, that new ones may be told. Form the elk hide over the bones of your drum, pulling the strings tight and warming them by the fireside. Spin the nettle into fiber for weaving, for making your prayer shawls and the string skirts for dancing. Pass the mead brewed with medicine and magic round and round the circle until we're howling into the night, speaking prophecy and dancing till dawn.
With the blush of the coming sunrise on the eastern horizon, kiss your witch sisters good-bye and return home, hair tangled with twig and leaf, feet muddied and fingers bruised. Step into your home, light the morning fire from the banked embers of the night before. Listen to the stirring of a house coming to life, rising to greet the dawn as you wrap your nettle-shawl around your shoulders and with feet bare and dancing, set the kettle and begin the day with dandelion fritters and honey from your sister's temple hives.
Mid-day your sisters join you, their children on their backs or running through the forest with your own, as you gather and tend to the wild things and the garden things and craft and cook and clean and teach together, telling stories over blackberry tea or rosehip wine. You laugh and you cry and you break and you mend, in her arms, in the arms of your children and your lovers.
You let go, you remember, you return.