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Riddle and Meditation: Gods

By Ruby Sara

Greetings, best beloveds, from the gray and waning light of the pretty-wild-urban midwest. I have not said much these past few weeks, having miles to go before I sleep and all that business…the business of bread and ritual and tables and friends. But for the moment, there is a silence and a peace in the house. I’ve a loaf of bread rising in the oven, my first six strand braid. There is a flute playing somewhere, and the sky threatens rain, or snow, or both. We slide into the dark, we slide into the dark. It is only 5 o’clock, and already the night has been assured, through with teetering on the gunmetal brink of evening and dyed hard and fast to darkness.

This starry cloth that coats the sky is a god. One of mine. I call her Mother, which is more playful than anything, because she’s more of a crazy Aunt. Or a dangerous stranger. She’s a wild woman, and all things have known her, and she has seen all things with her million eyes. I imagine her as a red-headed skeleton woman, dancing in dreams. Sometimes she is Winter and sometimes Death, but she is always Night. And she scares me, she scares me. The world gets colder and she gets meaner, and her hard lessons are sometimes too much for me, and I wish instead for light. But I am her daughter nonetheless, as we all are, and I have also seen her, sharp and glorious, smiling with all her terrible teeth, and have loved her fiercely. As I do.

Read the original article at: Pagan Godspell

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