Blessed be the lost ones, those who
left, in our opinion, too soon, whose
time, they say, had come. Blessed
be those whose lives have stopped
in their current form, the bodies we
know and miss. For it’s we who are
lacking, not they. Either they don’t
know any more or their essence has
dissolved to some fuller| plenitude
we too will come upon in our time.
Only the Goddess knows for sure
if we listen, if we reach out to Her.
Calling on Persephone, as seasons
darken, as night falls into autumn:
Take care of those we have lost.
by Susan McCaslin
by Frances Roberts-Reilly
by Judith Laura
by Susan McCaslin
by Doreen Hopwood
My body struggles to unfreeze from the frozen wastelands of winter, as the snowdrops open fully to the still-freezing north winds.
I drag myself around from the drained exhaustion of all that happened, as the nights slowly open their dark arms to greet the light.
Moments of emerging happiness begin to feel possible … for She has returned, my dearest Daughter Persephone, and her heart is opening once more, to Life, to Love, to me, Her Adopted Mother Demeter.
The first narcissus shows its tiny yellow head.
Spring may be here soon.
by Elizabeth A Kaufman
As a Pagan, Goddess-worshipping witch and priestess, I have over the past thirty years celebrated the Winter Solstice in a variety of ways. As my path evolved, I made appropriate changes and adjustments, but never quite found that which truly felt right. In 2007 however, I came across a rite for Helios on one of the Hellenistic reconstructionist groups I belong to which provided the inspiration I needed.
While that rite, celebrated over three or nine nights, was dedicated to Helios, mine would be dedicated to those goddesses I most revere. While celebrating the season of turning inward for renewal and hope, I would honor the darkness of the days as looking inward for wisdom, finding that wisdom and then honoring the return and growth born of that wisdom, the return of light.