The Invocation of Justice

There is a lovely book on the internet called the Carmina Gadelica. It is full of old Gaelic spells and prayers. A lot of them are post-Christian era, but they conjure up much older images of their native homeland. They can be easily augmented for the witch’s use. Hell, I was using the following one before even knowing it was in the book!

The following is a prayer to invoke Justice. It can be used however one wishes, either as a spell before going into a court, or to force someone to confess. Even parts of it can be used and not the entire thing, which I shall explain.

In the morning, the seeker of justice would make his way down to a place where three rivers met (look, a crossroads!) and chant the following prayer whilst bathing his hands and face:

I will wash my face
In the nine rays of the sun,
As Mary washed her Son
     In the rich fermented milk.

Love be in my countenance,
Benevolence in my mind,
Dew of honey in my tongue,
     My breath as the incense.

Black is yonder town,
Black are those therein,
I am the white swan,
     Queen above them.

I will travel in the name of God,
In likeness of deer, in likeness of horse,
In likeness of serpent, in likeness of king:
     Stronger will it be with me than with all persons.

He would then go to the court and say in undertone, or in his mind:

God sain the house
From site to summit;
My word above every person,
The word of every person below my foot.

And so justice would be with him.

I had found the last line of the prayer:  ”I will travel in the name of God, In likeness of deer, in likeness of horse, In likeness of serpent, in likeness of king: Stronger will it be with me than with all persons.” years ago! I would use it when I became frightened, or when I felt threatened by something. Except I changed the words a bit, and it went something like this:

I will go in the name of the Father
I shall go as the horse and the stag,
I shall go as the slithering serpent,
With the horns upon my brow
None are stronger than I! 

And I would proceed to make the sign of the horns upon my forehead. I would feel protected by my own power, a very satisfying feeling.

There are many charms and prayers in the CG, and I will start putting them to good use!

An Autumn Ritual

Tonight I took the Wild Irish Woman and two non-witches that have an interest in witchcraft into the forest. We went to the Ash Mound where many a ritual has been held. We lay down the compass and strongly called the spirits to us. We anointed ourselves with the spirit of Mandrake and then set to work on the main ritual.

While the Wild Irish Woman played a sweet song, I began to craft the Sacrificial King. His body was that of a potato, and twigs were his limbs. I cut out a space for his heart. His head was an apple slice, and he had corn wisps for hair. I gave him a huge phallus, the base of the ear of corn. I gave him Ale for blood, a spark from the fire for his spirit, and my own breath to Liven Him. He presided over our festivities at the base of the stang.

We sang, and danced, and traversed deeper In Between. We chanted to bring ourselves down deep. Spirits moved with us, and jumped through our ritual space. Our feet pounded upon the soft earth, and we all got a little dirty. There was much toasting and drinking. Trance overtook us all. We were in a lovely balance with the world.

The Wild Irish Woman led us in a beautiful, on the fly meditation after we chanted about ourselves being of Nature, even if we do not appear physically to be so.

Earth my body, water my blood. 
Air my breath and fire my spirit. 
We are a circle, a mighty circle.
We have our brothers, we have our sisters.

The meditation was about focusing on our inner flame and fanning this flame higher. The Cunning Flame of Wisdom, gifted to us by the Master.

Then it was time for His sacrifice by my hand. While the Wild Irish Woman drummed a slow funeral dirge I dug holes in the ground to be His grave. I prayed over the body of the King that was soon to be slain by the hand that made him. The drumming quickened, and so did the tears that fell from my eyes. My hands shook as I lifted the blade. I cried out and stabbed once, twice, three times. In this neck, his heart, his phallus.

Breathing heavily I buried my King.

The King is dead; Long live the King!

We solemnly drank to his Sacrifice, and hoped for his speedy return to the Land. We feasted, and laughed, and chatted for a while, and then it was time to return. We chanted

Rentum Tormentum, in the Horned One’s name!

dancing all the while around so that we flew back to the surface like a cork rising in water. We thanked the spirits for their power and I closed the circle, sending the energies back into the Land.

And that was that. We played a few more tunes, and drummed merrily, before returning to the roads, and the buildings, and the streetlamps.

The Goat-foot Prayer

A friend of mine sent this to me, and I just fell in love instantly. It’s just brilliant.

“To Hell with their father, hiding in heaven
I spit on every letter of his name.
His Kingdom is ashes.
His will is bile,
as it rises in my throat.
I have worked in the fields to earn my bread,
and need no forgiveness, but from him that I’ve wronged.
And to hell with him that wronged me.
I’ll take all my temptation,
And judge my own what’s Evil.
For this is the kingdom of the Old-Horn,
And the Goatfoot, and the One-eyed,
forever, and ever.

Nemha!”

Apparently, according to the fellow who posted it on TraditionalWitchcraft.Net, it was screamed by an Irish practitioner before he started his ritual. More of that turning away from what is considered the “norm”. A way to call up that darker aspect of that Old Goat Fellow.

The Moon shines brightly upon a pond

The Moon shines brightly upon a pond.
The pond, being frozen, glitters,
And a silver fire reflects, and mirrors in my soul.
Here is shown a Mystery.
Beneath my feet I feel a Serpent,
A Serpent coiling ’round.
The Flames of Cunning slither and sneak
Up my spine into my mind,
Out my mouth, out of my eyes,
And up into the Moon.
Tingling, buzzing, shivering;
It’s a sweet, candied poison
Inflaming and destroying my soul.
I am filled! Full! Pregnant with Serpent!
I am a full Lunar body.
Here is shown a Mystery.
Expanded I fly, touching stars:
Silver wire strands wrap, entrap,
And write their secrets upon my arms.
I burst, scattering like the dust I was.
Pure fire, now, one with the sky,
Calmly floating down, down.
Down on the ground, sleeping now,
Returning to mundane indifference.

~March, 2012

On Winter’s Eve

I feel it, like a pull to my soul. The winter months are coming up and the whole of the world shall be topsy turvy. Life becomes Death, Light becomes Darkness and the Horned King rides over the world seeking out souls and miscreants.

All of Nature knows it.

The leaves here in Montana have turned to fire and flame, bursting with oranges and reds and yellows. They fall like embers from the trees, the last lights going out.

Be wary and take heed, for now the spirits are about. Do not look behind you and keep your doors locked. Every stranger may well be a spirit or a god, so be kind to them. Disguise yourself when you go out so your soul will not be stolen. Nor, in this way, will you be frightened, but you may be asked to a party of spirits to make mischief against the living. Will you accept such an invitation?

Give offerings to the dead, and leave out a lantern for your ancestors to see by, and to keep out those that you would wish to keep out. In this modern age we have electric lights, but it is best to use a live flame to empower the Warding Squash.

Winter’s hand stretches forth and all feel His touch. His great beard covers She Who Sleeps until spring comes again. Comfort yourselves among friends during this time and remember that you are lucky.

You are lucky to have the comfort of an electric or gas warmed house. You are lucky to have blankets manufactured by companies that you can buy from any generic store. You are lucky to have food that you do not have to find yourself. You are lucky to be alive.

Remember that your ancestors did not have the comforts that you have now; they had to fight for them! They really had to survive. We still need to, of course, but we survive in completely different ways than the humans of the past. We have sicknesses now that we have no cure for, and when we cure those we will have still more. Nature will adapt, just as we adapt; We were created in Her image!

Our ancestors feared Nature, and revered it, much like one fears and reveres a loving mother. In this modern age we still fear Nature, but few revere Her might. We fear Nature now because of what we have done to it. Pollution, war, famine caused by our mistakes. Slowly we are rectifying what we have started. What better way to start this than realise that you are still a part of Her, even if you feel removed.

Remember. Our primal needs are still there: food, warmth, a sense of purpose. During the Winter more than any other time is the time to Remember, to Reflect, to Craft and to Know. This is the time when we are most separated from Nature’s green grasses and living trees. Being surrounded by so much death, one may realise that one takes life for granted.