as honey bees enrich my hives.
Only humans rob their kin, despoil the land, pollute the seas,
Kill for fun, destroy the woods, float poisoned vapours on the breeze.
I shall live, for I can heal, even if you humans die,
But you can learn, as Children should, to grow in peace beneath the sky.
A silence lies on the Wildwood,
The light of the stars grows dim,
The wind has died in the branches,
But a shadow moves. It is Him!
He is the stag in the moonlight,
The stallion alone on the hill,
The bull that paws at the tussocks,
The salmon that leaps in the rill.
Each is a part of the Hunter,
The Godhead that lives in the Dark,
Lord of the Wild and the Hidden,
At midnight, the small breathing spark.
His is the glory of sunrise,
The greenness that rises in spring,
His is the force of the tempest,
The strength in the wild eagle’s wing.
His is the voice of the pan-pipes,
The power that governs the land,
But She is his wife and his Mother,
And he dwells in the palm of her hand.
Lady of the threefold shifting light,
Whose form is Earth, by day and night,
And yet about you flows eternal ocean,
Goddess so still, yet in perpetual motion.
Moon, sister-self and triple aspect of the Triple One,
Maiden, God creator, wise and ancient Crone.
Thou who art Earth, and Moon, and Sea,
Mother of All, thou madest me.
From your dark bones, from green and flesh,
From crystal waters and the quiet wind’s breath,
These came from you, and now are me,
Eternal spirit clothed in frailty.
Yet beyond these there endless dwells
A light that from some star-seed fell.
Goddess of Life and Love and Paradox,
Keeper of the keys to all the locks,
Of Mysteries, of Earth and Sky,
Pray answer me. Who am I?
I am brother to dragons and companion to owls…
Old Testament; Job 29:30
Many people are drawn, these days, to the idea of witchcraft. Some seek religious freedom, some wish for magical powers, some wish to reawaken the ancient links with our Mother Earth, or seek healing of both body and spirit.
Some wish to be part of covens, to share ceremonies and regular meetings with like-minded folk in the comfort of their own homes. Others, however, have heard wilder music, playing to an older beat, and wish to reunite with Mother Nature, alone, out of doors, under the light of the stars and changing moonlight, in a simpler way. It is for those people I am writing this book. Those who seek covens have been well served by recent publications and they will find the contacts they require if they look diligently, but others who do not wish to join with a group, or cannot because of their work or family commitments, those who wish to master the ancient arts of magic, the personal pagan faith, the various ancient crafts alone, may need this guidance.
The solo occult path is a traditional one, following in the footsteps of the oracle, the hermit, the shaman or Druid priest. Even those who are able to share the festivals and healing rites with others may wish to develop their personal spiritual dimensions, gaining self-confidence and power as an individual witch as well as a member of a coven. But the solo path in any study is hard, and that which leads through the hidden worlds of witchcraft perhaps even more so, because it is dealing with intangible things, with ‘inner worlds’, with gods and goddesses, and ancient myths and magic. Much of the work involves dealing with symbols, with mysterious forces, and seeing with illuminated vision things invisible to the ordinary, waking eye. Beginners will have to get used to dealing with the past, and the future, or aligning themselves with a new pattern of celebrations and milestones in the turning year, with the phases of the moon and with their own inner tides. They will have to make contact with the gods and goddesses, but they will find that the Mighty Ones are gentle, treating those nervously taking their first tentative steps into the world of magic as delicate chicks or small children. It does not mean that they are always so mild, and the student will soon discover their fiercer faces can be shown to protect or ward off interference. The kindliest goddess can still scold her children if their demands are excessive.
The purpose of this book is to show those who seek an alternative way that they may worship the pagan deities on their own, that they may master the ancient arts and magical crafts, just as their ancestors may have done. We may be living in a ‘global village’, but it still has a need for its traditional servants, the modern equivalent of a tinker, tailor, butcher, baker and candlestick-maker. It will need a healer who can see beyond the confines of the body and the limitations of a single symptom. It will need someone to set out the rituals which mark the times and tides; it will need a clairvoyant to plan for the future, and one with vision, who can look back into the far past and recover from that source lost wisdom for the waiting world.
Only the witch-finders said, ‘Thou canst not be a witch alone!’ History shows that each community had its own wise woman, calling her midwife, prophet, herbalist or comforter. Some of these were accused of crimes, tried and executed. Most were innocent, for those with the true knowledge kept their secrets, knew the future and took care to be hidden if the inquisitors came along. Their knowledge has not been lost; it has been hidden, forgotten and overlooked among many fragments of country life.
Among the half-remembered customs, traditional tales, old songs, folk plays and dances are the keys to a great store of wisdom, unwritten lore and magical arts. To reopen that storehouse may be a simple matter for those with common sense, and an enquiring mind. Those who care for the world, who honour Nature and wish for healing and harmony, those are the people who may rediscover the Earth Mother and inherit her bounty in this modern world.
All traditional crafts and magical skills have to be learned alone, for they are the technologies of the trained mind, the awakened heart, the keen eye, able to see other worlds than this. The religion of the newborn pagan has to come from the heart too, for there is no book, no dogma, no appointed priesthood to interpret scriptures written on the wind. The Old Ones are immanent; they are kindly although they have been miscalled, ignored, forgotten and maligned by followers of a newer faith. They do hear our prayers, give inspiration, offer consolation and guidance, and bless us with wholeness, if we ask them patiently and sincerely. We have to seek them out in their old territory, the woods and downs, the high hills and the river valleys, on mountain peaks and in secret caves. Their voices may be heard on the wind, in the cries of birds, and the laughter of