• And sin, young man, is when you treat people as things. Including yourself. That’s what sin is. Terry Pratchett
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Other Blogs

  • 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
  • Opet is coming ’round again
    And the Emboatening Crew is once more celebrating by making Kiva loans. You’re all welcome to join us. (My monthly column in Patheos Pagan is about Opet and charitable works, and will be going up tomorrow assuming nothing goes wrong.)Filed under: Festivals, Uncategorized
  • 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 […]
  • Mythopoeia
    Continuing with rambling on the topic of my exploration of pagan movement history, another critical concept: mythopoeia. The word means, literally, “myth-making”, and it is one of the near inescapable traits of at least the origin points of pagan religions. […]
  • 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 […]

Devotional Miscellany

Seth Beyond the Borders of Egypt

There is no river here
Nor flood to bring the black and green
And birth the land anew.
So he comes rumbling
To bring about his brother’s blessing
To fling Osiris to the earth
All in pieces
And to drive the people to take cover
With rain and thunder
Rather than sand.

These are among the Mysteries
The black earth is split
Of Osiris;
By the green and gold, the grain
Cast down
Cast down
By his brother
Upon the threshing grounds;
Into the river
Grain riven from chaff,
And cut into pieces;
Ground fine by stone on stone,
Bound up
Bound up
By the wise hands
With water, milk, and honey,
Of Anubis;
Kneaded smooth,
At Isis’ touch;
With the leaven,
Falling again
Punched down
To rise
To rise
For the oven:
King of those that shine beyond,
Golden brown
Gift of grain,
The bread
Sustainer of the living.

Praise for Nut

Mother of the manifest
Womb of the dead
Arched starry vault of heaven
Whose water jar
Holds cleansing
And oblivion
Swallow up the sun!
In your belly
Is making and unmaking
And grandfather dawn is born
Bloody and fragrant
Between your thighs.

Osiris Mysteries

Between every beat
        The heart rests.

What is the peace
        Of the Weary of Heart?
        The fading sun
        The waiting seed
        The shining dead.

What is the season
        Between the beats
Of the resting heart
        Of the Silent God?

In their time
        Each emerges in light.