It is that time of year again. The sap is beginning to rise in the trees and they shake off their winter slumber as buds begin to slowly form. The ewes born a few weeks ago are growing quickly from their mother’s milk. The harsh grip of ice has loosened and begun to recede to the cold realms from which it came. And Death is cast across the land.
Our Lady walks among the tiny plants, seeds, and slumbering trees; and with each step she awakens them. She wears a crown of flowers and is youthful in her mannerisms. With each flick of her finger a leaf uncurls and the inevitable fate of the tomb sealed upon that moment of birth. She is both the womb and the tomb, for let us not forget that She is the Queen of Hell, the Queen of Death.
Look about you, all of the potential growth and bounty that is to come is bound for the silent rest of death. This isn’t one of those common themes that Witches dwell upon between Candlemas and the Spring Equinox, but the signs are there. The bees buzz and the birds sing their own funeral dirge.
I beseech you to look at it, stare it in the face, and smile knowingly. Smile because you know the beauty and embrace it. As a Witch, the evident truth of death will sharpen the edges of the moment. With each acknowledgement that it is the Queen of Death that brought this bounty to us, the taste of it is sweetened. The world at its fullest is made more beautiful by knowing the hand that painted it will be the same that is at the final embrace claiming us all for Her own.
So as the signs of awakening life make themselves known to you, smile and allow the imprint of death upon the land to shine in glory, beauty, and splendor.
“Lost in a thicket, bare-foot upon a thorn path.”