Little Heathen Girl on the Hill

by Ian Elliott

for Khalida

The following verse developed from a daydream.  I imagined that just for a few minutes I was allowed to go back in time to pre-Christian Europe.  I found myself on a hill on a lovely blue afternoon.  There was an elm tree on the hill, and under it a little girl with two thick blonde pigtails was threading flower-bracelets.  I asked her what she knew about the world, about life and death and the Gods.  She answered me in a sort of sing-song, as if reciting a lesson learned (no doubt) from the local priest, and this is something like what she told me:

A Pagan Credo*:

            1

The Sun is my Father,

The Earth is my Mother,

The Moon is her mirror

The Planets are his other wives -

They are barren.  Only my Mother is fertile!

The blue sky is the Sun's meadow,

Where we all live.

The night is a great dark forest

Surrounding our meadow on every side.

The stars are other meadows in the forest far away.

 

            2

When I die, I shall sink down into my Mother's womb

To rest and grow young again,

In the arms of my dear dead,

In the lodge of the Old Ones.

When the cycles come round

I shall fly up to the Moon, Mother's mirror.

And when it is full of bright young spirits,

Down we shall fall in the blessed rain.

 

            3

The black earth will drink us,

The trees drink us too.

The fields will sprout herbs,

The trees will drop fruit.

On Walpurgis-night, or Midsummer's Eve,

I'll wait in the apple,

I'll watch in the parsley.

Robin or Marian will happen along,

Spy me, pluck me, gulp me down!

Two by two into the thickets they go,

Loving all night in the Mother's soft gaze.

Nine months later I'll open my eyes

And weep as they tie up my navel-string.

 

            4

Thus life after life we tread the round,

School and holidays, until we grow wise.

When we grow up, then they'll give us real work:

For the Gods need our help, though they don't tell us why.

  

Then, at the end, she put her head on one side, looked up at me and said,

"Poor man!  Don't you know anything at all?" 

 

Then I vanished.

 

*"CREDO" is a Latin word, meaning "I believe."  Each Pagan makes her own credo, and it grows and develops as we learn new ways to see the world. A CREED is a set of words all members of a sect must agree to.  Most Christians memorize and believe the Apostles Creed or the Nicene Creed.

Creeds were invented by Christians; most other religions get along fine without them. Ancient Pagans never had them. Unitarians never made up a creed, because they believe in everyone's need to create their own credo, instead.

What do YOU believe?

  Classical Fairy Poems

The Candle Contest
by The Open Hearth Foundation

Once upon a time, four young witches visited an elder at her small house where they talked long into the night about many wondrous things. Finally it came time to sleep and the elder said,  

      "I'm sorry friends... but there is only one spare bed, so the rest must sleep on the floor." 

      "So who should get the bed?" asked one. 

      "And how should we decide?" asked another. 

The elder thought for a moment and said, 

      "I'll place a candle on the table for each of you to blow out... and the one to use the best magick will win the bed."

 So the first witch approached the candle and focused on the air. Soon a strong wind was circling the room and knocking pictures from the walls. Finally the wind hit upon the candle and blew out the flame. 

      "Very good," said the elder as she re-lit the candle and re-hung the pictures, "Who would like to try next?" 

So the second witch approached the candle and focused on the flame. Soon the flame was three-feet tall and burning like a torch. The candle was quickly consumed and the flame snuffed itself out. 

     "Again very good," said the elder as she set out a new candle and inspected the ceiling for scorch marks, "And who would like to try next?" 

     So the third witch approached the candle and focused on the wax. Soon the wax was melting and forming a gooey puddle that ran off the table. The wick was eventually drowned and the flame sputtered out. 

     "Again very good," said the elder as she set out a new candle and pried melted wax off the table, "And who is left to try?" 

      So the fourth witch, who was the youngest of all, approached the candle and thought for a moment. Then licking her thumb and forefinger, she reached out her hand and pinched out the flame. 

     "Ah ha!" said the elder, "That's the best of all!"