Ostara, Again. The time of warm Sunshine, new beginnings, new growths. The young Witch mused as she walked through the park she’d chosen to be her Grove on this most holy day. Clad in a white and green gown like the bean-drui of old, her jewelry was an eclectic assortment that nonetheless symbolized her faith: a pentacle, an ankh, a wedjat, a Celtic knot, and a cimaruta with her family’s crest.
As she set up her alter in the middle of the empty park, the wind kicked up, blowing her long dark hair out behind her. Her gown whipped around her in a frenzy, the light material twisting and dancing around her like a shadow. Eyes glowed with joy as she smelled the sea air on the breeze. Magick is afoot. She could feel the Sun tides running in her blood, the call to bring Her will into the world. The Old Ways.
Grounding and centering brought her to oneness with the Earth, and the power of the four elements whirled around her. The elements of her Irish ancestors were all about her: land beneath her feet, water by the Narrows, and the air all about her. Eire. My ancesteral home. A longing for something I cannot name, yet I still feel it all the same.
She closed her eyes and concentrated, letting the magick take over her. She was no longer a girl, but a Witch, connected blood to blood to the Old Ways. The blood of my non-Christian ancestors runs nearly true in me.
Her Gods were here. The touch of the Divine was upon her, and they were in balance. In Perfect Love and Perfect Trust.
The Tuatha De Dannan of her Father’s People: Bright-Eyed Brighid, Lady of the Flame, the Well, and the Forge. Her Mother. An Dagda, the Good God and Cheiftain of the Tribe of the People of Danu. Boann, Opener of the Bright Well, Lady of Wisdom. Bright-eyed, flashing, shining Aine, Lady of Love, Lady of the Sun. The Red Mare. Protectress of Women. Aengus Og, the Young God of Love who fought against incredible odds to win Caer Ibormeith, the Swan-Maiden, the Protectoress of Pure Love and Pure Dreams. They won, and have lived in marital bliss ever since then. An envelope of swan feathers surrounded her suddenly, caressing her face with their softness. Manannan Mac Lir, Son of the Sea, Gate-Keeper and Guardian of the Doors to the Otherworld. His Laughter was echoed in the sudden roar and crash of the waves upon the shore. Fand, Faery Queen, Queen of the Sea. A sudden mist brushed across her arm. Lady of Mists and yet Lady of Victory, too. All that was Irish in her rose up, grateful for the presence of the Gods of her Father’s People.
The Netjeru of Kemet: Bast, Eye of Ra, Tearer, Lady of Joy and Pleasure. Her Kemetic Mother, the Mighty Lioness. Anpu, the Great Jackal, Opener of the Ways and Guardian and Guide of the Duat, alongside His Lupine Twin Brother, Wepwawet: also Opener of the Ways and Standard Bearer to the Armies of the Netjeru. Alongside Anpu was His Wife and Consort Anupet, Feral Mother, Protectoress, Repairer, Sunderur. The howling of wolves and the hot breath of a jackal exploded her senses. Aset, Queen of Heaven, Earth, and the Netherworld. Eye of Ra, Trickster, Great of Magic. The Throne Herself. Wesir, the Lord of the Duat, the Green One, He Who Brings Regeneration. The Judge. New growth, she though. Death and Rebirth. Heru-Sa-Aset, Pharaoh and King. Guardian, Protector, Young King, Bright King, Sharp of Eye and Sharp of Talon. Djehuety, Lord of Time, Wisdom, Writing, and Knowledge. Help make my writing flow and twist, and let creativity always spring from me, she prayed to Him. He smiled and touched her hair. Bes, Guardian, small yet tough. The heart of a Lion. Protector and Defender of Women and Children, and Slayer of all Ill-Humor and Evil. Lord Bes, defend me from all that would seek to harm me. His laughing assent brought a smile to her lips. Het-Hert-Sekhmet, Two Sides of the Same Coin. Lady of Love and Joy, Mistress of Beauty and Happiness. Eye of Ra, Red Lady, Lady of War, Pestilence, and Healing. Mighty lioness. Please, Aunt, bring me happiness and the strength to fight for it and win the young witch prayed. The Netjeret smiled and blessed her.
Next, the Goddesses of Her Mother’s People, the Goddesses of the Strega: La Befana, Old Crone, Wise Crone. She Who Brings Luck and Strength, Wisdom and Knowledge. And She shall be Old and Young as It Pleases Her…. Hekate, Queen of All Witcheries, She Who Holds The Torch Of Illumination, Guardian and Lady of the Crossroads. The howl of hounds permeated the Air as the Mighty Goddess appeared with Her Hunt, Her Three faces looking in three directions at once: What Is Past, What Is Present, and What is To Come. Fear not, little one. I shall guide you She whispered in a voice that was ancient and knowledgeable as Time itself.
Her Blessed Dead danced around her. The love of the blood of her blood engulfed her, helped the magick grow. The ritual had now begun.
Springtime. The time of warm Sunshine, new beginnings, new growths. And the seasons cycle circle round and round…Ostara, Again.