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The Goddess Charge
By: Doreen Valiente
It is midsummer night's eve, Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. This is a unique time, full of power and mystery.
You are standing in a large secluded clearing, banked on three sides by the dark
evergreen skirts of Mother Earth. Behind you expands a rolling corn field in the
cycle of infancy.
Above you hangs the moon. She is full and heavy, dripping her milk white light
on the planet below, like a mother's breast that anticipates the nurturing of
her child. The remainder of the heavens expands about the glowing orb of the
moon. Velvety and black, pricked by a multitude of twinkling stars.
You take a deep breath, heavy and sweet with the odors of a cooling summer day.
The field, the dark, the sounds of the night, the forest, the moon, they all
collide in time that does not exist.
As you look around the clearing, you realize that you are one of many~old,
young, robust, slender, dark, and light. They, as you, have come from many
distant places to be here this night. A sea of faces, each barely masking the
taunt anticipation behind them. Uttered whispers merge with the songs of the
insects and birds. An atmosphere of peace and unity prevails.
A hush, like the roll of a soft ocean wave, moves across the crowd. Silently,
the people form a circle. A lone cloud silently slips across the face of the
moon and veils its brilliance for a moment.
In the darkness, man, woman, and child join hands. As the light once again
filters down among the people, you hear the awed murmur of the crowd.
The center of the circle, empty only moments before, is brilliantly lit by the
aura of a single woman.
She is like no other. You search your memory, but you can remember no equal,
neither in this lifetime, or any other.
Her stance is straight and proud. Her strong yet delicate arms rise to the
heavens, drawing down the light of the moon unto her breast. Into her soul.
She is swathed in shimmering material that any human has yet to make; you marvel
at how it ripples about her, like fine flesh of tender lips kissing her body.
Some in the crowd see her as a raven-haired beauty; others see her as a white
blonde princess. Yet there are those who observe a fiery red-headed warrioress.
To you her skin appears a musk honey color, but to the man next to you it shines
with polished ebony.
It is then that you realize that you are connected to the thoughts of all in the
universe. To look upon her radiant face is to have the air stolen from your
lungs, and you gasp, eyes fluttering in mild fear of drowning in the logic of
nothing. The sensation flashes by; you are left with steady breath and a pumping
heart.
To look within her is to experience the divine...The Goddess!
The logical mind does not well accept the creative premise of divinity.
Therefore, you internally debate whether you are looking upon human flesh or a
figment of the heavens. You have been told by others that the woman is Aradia,
Queen of the Witches. Some have said she is the incarnation of the Goddess
herself, others say she is a daughter of the Goddess, as she could not enter her
full self in human flesh.
Regardless of the debate, you know that you have waited a very long time to see
her. Although the humans here are total strangers to you, you finally feel that
you are home. This is the place where you belong.
She speaks. Her silver voice rings loud & true. In amazement you watch as
the tallest trees around the clearing bow down in reverence as she begins The
Call:
Hear my words and know me! I shall be called a million names by all who
speak! I am Eternal Maiden! I am Great Mother! I am the Old One who holds the
immortal key! I am shrouded in mystery, but am known to every soul!
She lowers her arms and holds them open toward the people circled around her. A
small girl-child in the crowd cries out in fear, erupting the peace of the
circle. Her horrified mother attempts to remove the child as the little one
breaks into a tearful squall.
But, Aradia only smiles and beckons the small one to her. She holds her arms in
a cradling position, and where they once were empty, the child now materializes,
encircling the child to her breast. The mother is left guiding only empty space
from the circle.
If there was one among the crowd who does not believe in her reality, it surely
blossoms in that moment, as the child nestles into Aradia's shoulder in peaceful
contentment.
Still holding the child, Aradia gestures one elegant arm to the sky and speaks:
Hear my words and know me! Whenever the moon rises in the Heavens shall my
children come to me. Better it be once a month when the moon is full, shall ye
assemble in some secret place, such as this, and adore the spirit of I, who am
The Queen of the Witches!
And under my watchful eye, my children shall be taught the mysteries of Earth
and Nature, and of the ways of all Magick! That which is unknown shall be known,
and that which is hidden shall be revealed, even with my light. From my cauldron
shall be drunk all knowledge and immortality!
She pauses to caress the head of the girl-child, then lowers her gently to the
ground. The tot scrambles quickly back to her mother, her cherub face serene,
radiant, and blessed.
Aradia begins to glide slowly around the circle of people, looking intently into
many shadowed faces. She speaks:
Ye shall be free from slavery, and ye shall dance, sing, and feast. Music
shall surround you, for mine is the ecstasy of the spirit, and mine is also the
joy of the earth.
Her eyes grow large and luminous, and her voice flares with raw power as she
proclaims:
I do not demand sacrifice! For behold I am the mother of all living things!
She places her right hand on one man's forehead. She shouts:
Create and Heal!
She places her hand on another:
Be Strong, yet Gentle!
she turns quickly to an old woman:
Be Noble, yet Reverent!
She then tips the chin of an attractive young lady:
Bring Forth and Replenish!
And pivoting with a seductive laugh, she moves about the circle, touching each
individual, murmuring encouragement of hopes and dreams, laying aside fear and
hatred.
And ye, as does the cycle of the moon ever begin to wax and wane and to grow
forth again, as do the seasons from one to the next flow in smooth rhythm, from
sowing to reaping, to seeming death and rebirth...so will my children know their
own pattern in both worlds!
Your heart begins to beat its own primal rhythm as she moves~no, glides~toward
you. Your stomach does those familiar flippity-flops when you realize it is you
she has singled out. She stands but a breath in front of you. You feel her
warmth envelope you with the perfume of musk, or is it lavender? She is so
beautiful, you think your eyes may never see normally again.
Her hand delicately touches your shoulder, sending a rapturous vortex of power
jolting down your body, then building in your belly. She speaks in a whisper,
that amazingly all can hear:
And ye shall say these words...
I will love and harm none.
I will live, love, die, and live again.
I will meet, remember, know, and embrace once more.
For the free will of All, and with harm to none
As I will
It is now done
So mote it be!
You speak the words. The people speak the words. She backs to the center of the
circle, never appearing to move; but there just the same. Her power churns
through every molecule of your system.
The circle begins to fill with drifting notes of pan-pipes, whirling into a
foggy spiral toward her. Where she once stood alone, now solidifies a towering
being, half covered in fine, golden, iridescence. His bronze muscular arms
encircled her gently, as if she were made of the lightest faery wing.
Two large twisting horns protrude from his head, glowing with a light that
appears to be all its own. His visage does not frighten you, for you realize
that this is The God, the consort of the lady, and that he is the golden half of
her silvery being.
They smile deeply at one another. Their separate bodies slowly melt together
into a single, blazing entity of light. And the human circle is plunged into
darkness.
Your fearful heart turns your eyes to the heavens, but it is only another cloud
that has passed before the face of the moon.
The light returns almost as quickly, as mystically as it was stolen.
Perhaps...not quite as mystically as before. All eyes turn to the center of the
circle.
And it is bare.
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