• “The secret is not to dream,” she whispered. “The secret is to wake up. Waking up is harder. I have woken up and I am real. I know where I come from and I know where I’m going. You cannot fool me anymore. Or touch me. Or anything that is mine.” Terry Pratchett
    The Wee Free Men

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Other Blogs

  • Unsettled Time
    We are living in unsettled time. Wp Rnpt has ended the time between time, the Days Upon the Year in which time is upended and unordered, but time is still not aligned fully. We have space in which action exists, in which we can uphold the world, set ma’at in its place, the leverage to […]
  • Just a quick note
    I’ve updated my bio page with a link to Les Cabinets Des Polytheistes, where my story “Spine of the World” is published (and in which people can play Spot The Netjer if they are so inclined), and my less-specific webspace Suns in Her Branches, which is broader than this space (which is specifically for reconstructionist-derived […]
  • Opet article is up
    And can be read here.Filed under: Patheos Links
  • Eclipse Magic
    I am eight. I have been given a subscription to the magazine Sky & Telescope as part of our preparation for Halley’s Comet, and I read through it, earnestly trying to make sense of the articles, studying the pictures. I […]
  • The Art of Being A God
    It’s interesting having one foot in reconstructionist religion and one foot in religious witchcraft, for a lot of reasons. One of the things that I’ve been thinking about lately is the shape of how the gods appear within the context […]
  • Hills of the Horizon: The Past is Another Country
    The problem with extrapolation from history is that nothing is testable. The evolution of a religion over time is not a predictable and easily comprehensible thing, where we can look at a point in time and say, "It was like this then, so it would be like that now." The process of deciding what needs […]

Crafting and Iron

Earth is black with secret red
Flowing with dark molten iron
A pulsing of the heartbeat’s blood;

Heaven, black with shining gems
Flower-strewn and rainbow-prismed,
Velvet depths in endless flood;

The silver-twining open road
From ferrous heart to shadow’s sun –
The partner to the kiss of worlds,
A lover’s breath, a dance begun.


Iron is the blood of the earth
The red sweat of its bones
The last explosive breath
Of dying stars
Giving their metal hearts to the universe.

Iron, holy,
Spattered droplets across heaven
Sky-metal, earth-metal:
The tree spans all worlds
From the fire in the earth
To the fires in the sky.

Your bones sweat blood
Iron-red, made of skyfire,
Life and death
Of stars and men.

This iron tooth,
Many-folded,
Whorled like a dance of cells:
Your cousin,
A drop of blood,
From star-death to earth-life
Predator-pointed,
Cuts the grape from the vine.

And look:
The fruit also bleeds.