Friday Worship

The passion within can be both enrapturing and terrifying yet we must strive for our own truth, our own path and ultimately our own journey to Ishtar.

Todays praise poem is entitles Thank You and is written by the Druid Greywolf

Thank you for the rage and flame
Both given and withheld
For soft skin offerings through pain
For not shying from the falling rain

Thank you for the black hair shining
Scent of skin and salty sweat
Bloodied lips drawn back and smiling
Shaded by the ravens wing



Thank you for the black nights
Deep within the dark embrace
Of spirit and of tortured flesh
The shifting shadows on your face

Thank you for the warmth of words
That penetrate my silent soul
Lifting spirits high and wild
To dance in freedom on the wind

Thank you for the rivers of devotion
Flowing eastward to the sunrise
And the boundless ocean
Open to receive my sacrifice

Thank you for the corner field
Where once I knelt before you
Tasting the sweet essence
Of your nectar on my tongue

Thank you for the snake that hissed
When my mistaken human heart
Touched too close to tender bliss
A soul once bartered for a kiss

Thank you for the visions
Of the dead and of the dying
For the pain and for the blood
And for the flood of tears I’m crying

Thank you for the taste of red wine
Smeared across my lips
The tension and the passion
In the cradle of your hips

The past reborn from hollowness
The fire on which we burn
Rising on a pall of smoke
From life to life return

The teaching and the tenderness
The lessons hard to learn
The darkest secrets of the heart
The pages left unturned

The woman, priestess and the child
Hanther, witch and wife
Sane and Insane
Bold and young

Wild and tender
Bound and free
Lover, mother virgin, crone
For all you are and yet may be

I give thanks with a raging heart
And everything I am or might become
I offer to the flames of love
Devour me, devour me o Cerridwen, devour me

The taste of love be on thy tongue
The taste of blood be in thy mouth
The melting heat of sun and moon
The heat of love, sweet passion

Come o Cerridwen devour me, let every vein be torn
Come o Cerridwen devour me, that I may be reborn