Morrigan Book Blessing
by Jack Veasey

Hearken as the Witches Word
calls the Lady and the Lord
Moon above and Earth below
Sky’s cool blue and Sun’s hot glow,
In this right and ready hour,
fill these pages with Thy power
May no unprepared eye see
the secrets which entrusted be
to I who walk this hidden road
to find the Hearthstone’s calm abode
Guardians of the Four Directions,
hear me and lend Thy protection:
may these truths of Earth and Skies
shielded be from prying eyes.
But to the Witches whose map this be
may the way be plain to see;
and, through all the coming Ages,
may we find home in these pages.
So mote it be!

by Judy Harrow

originally published in HARVEST – Volume 5, Number 3 (Oimelc, 1985)
second publication: THE HIDDEN PATH – Volume X, Number 2 Beltane, 1987)

All religions began with somebody’s sudden flashing insight, enlightenment, a shining vision. Some mystic found the way and the words to share the vision, and, sharing it, attracted followers. The followers may repeat those precise and poetic words about the vision until they congeal into set phrases, fused language, repeated by rote and without understanding.

Cliches begin as great wisdom – that’s why they spread so fast – and end as ritual phrases, heard but not understood. Living spirituality so easily hardens to boring religious routine, maintained through guilt and fear, or habit and social opportunism – any reason but joy.

We come to the Craft with a first generation’s joy of discovery, and a first generation’s memory of bored hours of routine worship in our childhood. Because we have known the difference, it is our particular challenge to find or make ways to keep the Craft a living, real experience for our grandchildren and for the students of our students.

Bide within the Law you must, in perfect Love and perfect Trust.
Live you must and let to live, fairly take and fairly give.

For tread the Circle thrice about to keep unwelcome spirits out.
To bind the spell well every time, let the spell be said in rhyme.

Light of eye and soft of touch, speak you little, listen much.
Honor the Old Ones in deed and name, let love and light be our guides again.

Deosil go by the waxing moon, chanting out the joyful tune.
Widdershins go when the moon doth wane, and the werewolf howls by the dread wolfsbane.

When the Lady’s moon is new, kiss the hand to Her times two.
When the moon rides at Her peak then your heart’s desire seek.