Remember Me

Remember me…

Before the sun came the moon, before blood there was dew, before chaos was order, and before was was peace;

Before the forest, there was the sea, the waves of which bore you to me upon bended knee.

Remember me…

Before the light that burned with its intensity came the cool darkness that sheltered and soothed those that bowed to the phases of the moon.

Remember me…

Before unity was lost in mystic obscurity, there was a time when humankind found peace within every bird and leaf and tree, and oneness in community.

Remember me…

Before the thunder came the rain, before the blade there was the harvested plain–in the days before the sun gods with their bolts of lightening replaced the shadowy side of the mountain and the elders’ shade.

Remember me…

There was a time when snake and bull, boar and pig, bird and every leafy sprig, represented hope embraced and powers tamed by the Mother’s honored race–before they came to mean Satanic treachery.

Remember me…

Creatrix of the Old Society, when women reigned Supreme and brought the world prophetic philosophies, science and democracy, and let us not forget sublime art and poetry;

When the chalice was the womb and its waters gave birth to creativity divine, before the days men laid waste and claimed death instead of life.

Remember me…

The One for which you yearn, the forgotten Goddess whose bounty and compassion is still memories obsession.

Remember me…

The Lady who was slain by the gods of war and hate, the One as yet to be erased.

Remember me…

The One who put the cycles in place, not just those of season, but those of history, reason,and emotional treason;

As above, so below–take a look around and you will see what once was will once again be;

The Goddess was subdued, but now the Lady’s cry rises to the moon;

Maiden, Mother, Crone, Ceridwen of old, Rhea of Crete, and Gaea of the Greeks, as well as all the many faces of divine inspiration—Shadow-Bright, she marches in the night, seeking her rightful place, risen from the grave, and at her back are the Faithful Few, those who know the truth’s not true.

Woman, feel the blood pounding in your veins, full of power, without fear, absent shame, an ancient rythm, just the primal drum’s embrace, the heartbeat of your race.

Remember…and return honor to the legacy of your ancestors.