Cricks Rants

This effort is dedicated to T, who is my devil's advocate/sage voice and to Dan and Nya who round out my rather jagged Irish edges.

Articles:                                                                                                                                         Poems Page 2

Is Paganism in Danger of Becoming an Organized Religion?                                                      Poems Page 3

Some Random Thoughts                                                                                                                 Poems Page 4

The Lonely Walk                                                                                                                             Poems Page 5

A Pagan Community at what cost?                                                                                                  Poems Page 6

A Shaman Perspective                                                                                                                    Poems Page 7                                                                      
Community Travails                                                                                                                        Poems Page 8

The Changing of the Seasons                                                                                                          Poems Page 9

Freedom of Choice                                                                                                                         Poems Page 10

The Magick of Life                                                                                                                        Poems Page 11

                                                                                                                                                        Poems Page 12

Personal Responsibility - A Pagan Perspective                                                                            

Community                                                                           Once Upon a Time                                                                                                    
Why do you Care?                                                               Through the eyes of  Witch - An honest observation

Changes in Life                                                                    The Bed of Leaves - An analogy

Fading Memories - An analogy                                            The Pagan Burning Times

The Origins of Magick                                                         Thoughts of the Pagan Community

The Magickal Power of the Spoken Word                          Pagan Community - What Works

The State Of Paganism - A perspective                              Power of Fear

Questions related to Energy Work                                     The Power of Spirit

Emotions                                                                               Introspection

Paganism in Microcosm                                                       The Perils of Magick

Magick and Society                                                             Magick Is

Neo-Paganism. What is it?                                                   Just Another Day

The Voice of Spirit                                                               Mother Crystal     

Samhain                                                                                As Time Moves On

The Wonderful World of Herbs                                            Solitaires are Pagans Too  

The Dark Half of the Year                                                   Another Walk in the Woods

Tears of a Witch                                                                    The Din of Society

The CovenStead                                                                   Spiritual Aspects of Yule

The Veil as seen through the eyes of a Witch                     Thoughts of the Dryads

Religion vs. Spirituality                                                        Religion from the perspective of a Witch

A Quiet Walk in the Woods                                                 Power of the Individual

Perceptions of Life/ Thoughts of a witch                             The Storm of Life

Neo Paganism - Is it an Oxymoron                                      Pagan Fallacies: A Perspective

Freedom of Choice: Religion or Spirituality                        Paganism: Past or present

Alternate Worlds                                                                   The Pagan newbie

The Path of Wisdom                                                             In Search of a Pantheon
The Realities of Acceptance                                                The Magic of Life

Voces Magicae                                                                     Neo Paganism - The Fourth Branch

Jewish Mysticism                                                                The Samhain Experience                                                         

Yuletide Thoughts, Life and Death                                     The Great Escape                

Ode to Brighid                                                                      The Great Myth                   

Ceremonial Magic                                                                 The History of the Sacred Circle   

The Fear of Witchcraft                                                          A Thread in the Tapestry of Witchcraft               

Mind Meditations:                                                                             
Father Oak Ritual
The Falcon    

The Knoll

The Glade       

The Stream 

A Breath of Air


Some Really bad Poems

A Deep Sigh

Have you felt the love of our Mother?
Gently touching all aspects of life
Like the soft caress of a mild breeze
A fleeting ray of sunshine

Her sadness deepens at the course of things
Like a gray cloud stretched across the sky
A deep sigh of understanding
The balance of life forever changing

Her children stumbling all about
Rage and anger our daily fare
Voices rising in a chaotic din
No one stopping to listen

Faster and faster our lives become
Yet where is it that we are running to
Faces become a forgotten blur
Community becomes a lonely place

Brother and sister divided
Each clamoring to be the one
Where peace and harmony once ruled
All is now an emotional chasm

Janus looking to and fro
The Keepers of the gate are lost
Armies on the march
Humans stumbling in the mist

Bloodshed is our legacy
And we pretend to notice not
Justifying our dark deeds
The face of our Mother fades away

And yet, she waits in the shadows
Hoping for the day
When her children rediscovers her love
And thus regain their lost and darkened souls

Like a bright flame in the night
She offers us another chance
A way to find each other
Casting asunder the dark, in favor of the light

A Halloween night

Whispers in the night as the owls shiver with fright.
Snap of a twig, source unknown.
Dryads dance in the silence of the woods
Willow trees beckon to the souls of the dead.

Werewolves howl with blood curdling screams
Frothing at the mouth
Foulness fills the air
Running in packs across the dark plains

Trolls gathering beneath dank and musty bridges
Green claws scratching moss covered stones
Unwary travelers disappearing in the night
Oh the horrors of this night

Frost on the pumpkins out in the fields
Evil grins and slanted eyes
A look of malice
A treacherous laugh

Witches gathered around a cauldron so black
Ancient chants rise on the air
A mystery brew, bubbling ever so slowly
Are your children safe in bed?

Black dogs of the underworld
Amassing at the eerie crossroads
Hecate their queen, dark one of the night
On the search for lost souls

Bats flying by in the skies above
The scent of blood is in the air
Claws extended
Ready to plunge

A banshee wailing at the gate
Spirits crossing through the veil
A loud thump in the night
Oh my, what was that?

A straw filled scarecrow silently watching
Arms reach out, another child gone
Red eyed crows, laughing maliciously
Tonight we shall feast

Welcome to a world of things undead
A place without reason, full of fear
Where the secrets of the night lie in wait
Do you dare to venture out this dreary day?

A Spirit Free

The day has ended and with a sigh
I lay my body down ever so still
The mind is quietly put to rest
The spirit is free to soar ever so high

Human problems and travails are gone
Insults and harsh words
People acting out their fears
No need to worry, right or wrong

Spirit roams in a place free of hate
Petty human traits
A day of such experience
What shall be their fate?

Within that realm so much grief
People cursing and drawing swords
Trolls abound across the land
Fragile life is ever so brief

Yet spirit shall live in light so pure
No ignorance or lies
Such emotions unknown
One must wonder is love the cure

Petty egos abound in the night
He is master, no its she
Foolish humans have no clue
As spirit smiles and steps into the light

The soul takes up the body in the morn
Another day what shall it bring
More foolish pride or acts of wisdom
And thus another day is born

A Tale of Life

Have you heard the beating of the war drums?
Sadly Grandfather oak responded, yes I have little one

The squirrel started nervously running to and fro
Who are beating the drums of war?
Are we in danger, should we hide?
Grandfather Oak sighed and said; it is the humans again.

For whom do their war drums beat?
Would it be for the Dwarves way up North?
Those silent and sturdy folk, who reside in the far away mountains.
No little one it is not for the Dwarves.

Then it must be for the Elves who dwell in the West
Those magickal folk so quick with joyous wit
Their songs of life throughout the night
Alas little one it is not the Elves whose voices are so golden

Oh I know, it is the faeries of the East.
Why would humans rage war against them?
Children of the Goddess, their silvery wings always in motion
The old, wise oak sadly shook his head; no it is not the faeries for which the war drums beat

Oh Grandfather oak, it must be the Gnomes of the South
Those tiny folk who dwell in the Earth
Minding their families, and a great cup of ale to boot
Once again little one it is not against the gnomes that they march

But Grandfather Oak, against whom do they March?
Their chants of war and drums steady beating
Who do they seek to destroy?
Slow steps they take to a certain death

Listen quietly little one as I speak
It is humans marching upon humans
For rage and hatred is their fate.
They seek to destroy their own and to end their lives.

When a species has no love, the spirit cries out
And the humans have long ago hardened their hearts
Theirs is a life devoid of song
Such sadness and grief is their drink

The Goddess has given them a choice
But through life with closed eyes they walk
Greed and power the words of their song
Such pettiness is the mark of humans

But Grandfather Oak with your words of wisdom
Why do they not seek your counsel?
For then they would abate the drums of war
And realize their foolish ways

At this Grandfather Oak sadly smiled
The answer to that my little friend
Is that humans are humans
They no longer can see with their hearts!

They have closed their minds to the world around
They pursue false values of worth to none
The Mother cries but they do not hear
For that is what it is like to be a human

Gone is their connection to life
Gone is their connection to the Earth
And most of all my little friend
Gone is their connection to each other

A view of reasoning

As I stood upon the mountain, I looked out upon the open plain
I was hoping for some gentle rain, instead it radiated pain.

Down upon the plain were those we know as people
It was as if the bells of war were ringing from their steeple

I turned to my Gods above
And I asked where, is all of the love?

And my Gods answered in a booming voice
My child it has always been their personal choice

We give the breath of life
You have to choose love or strife

For life is not a game of chance
It is up to you to advance

We love you all very dearly
But you must see ever so clearly

If you wallow in hate and rage
You will never become the sage

For there is no right or wrong
Perhaps its here that you belong

Each of you must decide to take the walk
Though some will forever balk

For those that work through the pain
They will indeed feel the gentle rain

As I looked back upon the plain
Alas there was the loving rain

I am at peace with all of life
For I choose not, rage and strife

When the time is right
I will enter the light

And then it will be within my spiritual home
That I will once again set out to roam.

A Walk in the Woods

Meandering path, a moonlit night
Spirits about, oh what a sight

A warm summer breeze
magick betwixt the leaves

As I reach out to the moon
I see the old oak tree swoon

As I touch dear Mother Earth
I know I have found the secret hearth

Ancient chant and protective charm
this silent walk brings no harm

Great horned owl calls out to me
open your heart that you may see

God and Goddess are at my side
let all thats evil, run and hide

Devas dance in the lunar light
An old witch now walks in the night.

An Ode to Samhain

As the close of summers-end draws near
So begins a new cycle of the Wheel
A time to reflect on the year just past
Be honest and true without any fear

For life is like the last harvest of the three
From the womb of the Sacred Mother
So we begin our journey
Like an acorn falling from the old oak tree

A time when spirits travel to and fro
Our hearts are open and the door stands wide
A gathering of the generations
As we stop and listen our wisdom may grow

A time to meditate on the meaning of our lessons
Would those who have passed approve of our ways?
Are we reaching for the highest goal?
As Samhain nears, a spirit beckons

It's a time when the Goddess is feeling grief
Passing of the God, beginning of the year
As the cycle turns, so shall the God be reborn
The sadness of our Mother is but very brief

Samhain marks the Little Sun
Dark half of the year
A silent time of things to come
A time to celebrate and tears begin to run

Pass we must into Her light
We are all spokes on the Wheel of life
Walking through the realm as we must
But return we shall on Samhain night

Blessed be this special time
The realms are open
You have but to believe
And so shall end this special rhyme