Messages In This Digest (4 Messages)

1.: Tsulsala's Song. From: Blackbird

2a.: File - TeachMe.html From: Witch_Essentials@yahoogroups.com

3.: All Souls Day From: blackbird

4.: "Spellbound": Inside the witch camps of West Africa From: blackbird

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1.: Tsulsala's Song.

Posted by: "Blackbird" blackbird_61@yahoo.com blackbird_61

Sun Oct 31, 2010 1:15 pm (PDT)

Tomorrow of course is Samhain, (Sowen) or All Hallows Eve, depending on
how you call it; somehow I've always just liked the sound of the later;
any how it is also my favorite holiday, and I'm sure many of yours.

I mention my fiction from time to time here because story tellings is
such an important part of my spritual path, it is for me something akin
to mediation, and where I work out many ideas; and their is no Charactor
in my stories more important than Tsulsala, Wolf Mother, Queen of
Hunger, the shadow of death Incarnate. and tonight my gift to you, if I
may be so bold is her Story. Blessings, BB.
________________________________________
The last couple of notes of the Lyre hung for a long moment in the smoky
air, before being swallowed up by the noise of the pub. A smattering of
applause, a few coppers tossed in my hat. I waited a long moment, long
enough for anyone to toss a coin, not so long as to look a beggar before
pouring the coppers in my purse and going to the bar.

I ordered I pint of Bitter, a shot of spirits, a half a loaf of bread
and some cheese. The spirits filled my bosom with a welcome warmth as it
went down.

While I waited for the rest of my order I checked my purse. Slim
pickings tonight, people around here worked hard for their coppers and
where loath to part with them. Then I saw it at the bottom of the bag, a
silver! I pulled it out and looked at it in the light. Surely it was
silver, but the stamp was strange. Since I was a little girl I have
collected stories and longed to travel the wide world. Now here in my
hands for the first time, a coin from a foreign land. I tucked it in a
hidden pocket I've sewn into my bodice for little treasures.

I noted an empty booth across the room, so I picked up my pint and
headed there. After singing I quite like some quiet time, some privacy,
a moment to consider the set and think how I might do better. I sat down
in the booth only to find I shared it with a woman, who wrapped in her
black cloak, and sitting in the shadows I had simply missed in the dark.

Before I could excuse myself her delicate hand covered mine. Her hand
was pale and well manicured, obviously Murian. I thought you could write
a song just about those two hands.

Then she began, her voice as soft and clear as a gentle rain. Not quite
a whisper, but in the din surely only I could hear.
------------------------------------
I am Tsulsala,
for 6000 years I have ruled the night. Queen of Hunger, Mistress to
Shadow, but it was not always so...

There was a time when I was the apple of my mothers eye, and felt the
warmth of my sisters love. I was then the Narrar, Goddess of the Moon,
daughter of Isis, sister of Innana, who is the evening star. Horus and
Ra where my brothers. Osiris our father had fallen into shadow.

In those days Isis was first among us, the brightest and most beautiful
of the Gods. Mistress of all magick. Upon her was no stain of shadow at
all, and she was so brilliant as to be near impossible to behold. And if
truth be told I envied her, that beauty.

Ra was a great warrior, and his spear struck terror in the hearts of all
creatures of shadow. Innana was his shield Maiden, and her battle cry
called forth a wind that tore the thatch from Murian houses. It is told
elsewhere how Ra begged of Isis his Armor and fine Chariot for his
coming of age gift, and used these to battle the Shadow Set, whom the
Murian call Suetec. For a year and a day they fought. To the Ruin of the
World. It is not always remembered that while they fought, Innana my
sister, did battle the demons and giants in Sets train. It was she who
kept Sets minions from swarming our brother, and when they lay broken at
her feet, and Set saw that against Ra he was utterly alone, then Set
lost heart and fled into the abyss. And I envied Ra's fierce purpose,
and Innana's selfless courage.

My mothers grief was so great to behold the ruin of what was, that she
sobbed for 40 days and nights, till she nearly drown herself in her
tears, and washed away the world of old. The time now called the Golden
Age.. was gone. Horus came of age a year later, and he asked of my
mother that he might have the sacred blue apples of the garden. He
borrowed her chariot, and her sacred staff and flail. He went out into
mothers garden, called Mura and labored for a year and a day. He planted
the seeds of a new world, protected them, and sang to them that they
might grow quicker and stronger. Working under the nights sky so the
hungry birds would not steal all he had sown. So the sages say the new
world was born. And I envied him his stout heart, his simple purpose
when all around him had fallen into despair.

By Horus's Labor a new world sprang up. It did not shine with the inner
light of that which went before, for all things in this world had a
touch of shadow. Yet for all that some counted it more beautiful. As
though the shadows, by relief, gave greater depth to the light that
remained. Thus began the world you know where birth begets death, and
love must beget tears.

Many lives of Men would pass. The Chatti people came down from the
north, and met my mothers people. As they discovered each other, we too
discovered the House of Freydja and her family. We danced many a dance
of joy and praised The Dragon singing. How wonderful to discover the
world was far larger and filled with gifts greater and more subtle than
we had hither too known. I came to love to visit Freydja and just slip
out of the halls of the Vanir, and lay in the quite of a new fallen
snow.

Finally the day came when I came of age. I asked Mother only for a
simple cape, and a small purse of gold, that I might travel unnoticed in
her garden Mura, and seek my fortune, and my true self. ...
-------------------

The serving girl found me, with the food I'ld ordered, and I realized I
had not touched my pint.

"Do you require anything?" she asked Tsulsala, as one would properly ask
a noble. Tsulsala, held her gaze for a long moment, then wordlessly took
her hand and drew her into the booth. She Leaned over the girl and
kissed her neck. The ecstasy of hot blood pouring into cold veins was so
intense, I could feel it myself, feel myself shudder with the sensation.
How could everyone else in the room be oblivious?

Tsulsala, leaned back for a long moment with eyes closed and just
wallowed in the sensation, then told the girl. "I'll want the rest
later." She acknowledged the Queen with a tiny bob of her chin. Then she
shook herself like a person coming out of a daydream. She looked from
Tsulsala, to me, to Tsulsala, very confused.

"You seemed about to faint child, so we asked you to sit down. Do you
feel yourself now?"

"Uhm, yes your Ladyship."

"Then run along, I'll call when I need you."

"Yes your ladyship." and she left the booth, confused and perhaps a
little afraid.

-----------------------------------------

Oh yes, I was lying in the snow. Freydja had become like a 2nd mother to
me. Isis loved me dearly, but did not always see me for myself. She saw
the last seed Osiris had planted in her womb before falling into Shadow.

Freydja saw the restlessness in me that mother missed, and it was she
who suggested I wander the wider world, and listen for The Dragon's
whisper. Then I would find my true heart she said, as she had done in
past times. We sat up late many a night as Freydja recounted her
journey's, passing along places to explore. Special places where she
felt the Whisper of The Dragon was the strongest. Some famous, some you
know, but others small and secret. Like, A tiny bend in an overlooked
brook as seen from a particular bridge. She helped me pick what clothes
to take, and what to leave behind, as I would be traveling light.

So the Sun sank lower and lower as we made our preparations, and Freydja
convinced me that it would be ill omened to start a new journey under a
fading sun, so it was decided I should wait till after Mid Winters Eve.

Now as you know the Mid Winter Rites are the most sacred to the Chatti.
Which begged the question, with who would I share the Rites. Of course
many fine Hero's live in Lady Freydja's house. Yet for me, there was no
choice at all, I only had eyes for one. Lord Balder is beautiful, but I
always wondered if he was looking at me or his own reflection in my
eyes? While Thor is brave and stout hearted, but I always found him a
drunken oaf. True Hearted Tyr however I could find no flaw in him.

"So its was Tyr who I kissed under the Mistletoe, and with whom I shared
the Midwinters Rites..."

"All of them child." And she favored me with a wry smile. Then she
leaned back in the booth her eyes closed, her voice a touch softer as
she continued. "Oh I still remember my finger tips tracing out his arms,
the press of his sweet weight as he lay in my arms. Finally knowing for
myself why it was when Lorith returned to my Mother each new moon, and
the Murian say the Old Moon Lays in the Arms of the New, why the earth
itself beneath my mothers house did seem to shudder and moan." After a
long moment she continued.

"Nine days after the Rites where done I set forth from Freydja's house.
Wearing the rich furs of a Chatti Noble woman. I carried a small purse,
and a Lyre not unlike this one. May I?"

"Of course" Fumbling I handed her my Lyre, I felt awkward, perhaps
unworthy that my little Lyre fashioned by my father should be in the
hands of a Goddess, even a fallen one. Yet she plucked the strings
without a word, then twice let her fingers flow over them, till she was
sure just where each note lay on the strings. Then she began to play.
The Lyre sang like it had never sang before. The pitch of each note just
so perfect, as Tsulsala's fingers seemed to pet the Lyre. A bitter sweet
music filled the air, and I could see her. In my minds eyes Tsulsala no,
Narrar! Narrar and Tyr hand in hand in the snow. Running about like
children, making snow angels. Rolling in each others arms atop the
virgin show. Tears rolled unbidden down my cheeks.

The Chatti say that of all the creatures that ever came into Tsulsala's
power only Tyr has she let go. The Sage's say that is because if the
Queen of Lies had tasted the blood of the God of Truth it would have
poisoned her, but I think they may have been too clever by half.

The air was still, she handed me back the Lyre. Her hand touched my
cheek, a tear rested on her finger. She favored me with a smile and then
continued.

The rest is well known, but I should complete the story. For a year and
a day I wandered the Paths of Mura, posing as a Minstrel and singing for
my supper. I traveled far and wide, and never heard the least whisper
from The Dragon. Finally in a small pub, not unlike this one, another
musician whispered a secret too me. A Magician lived far away up the
coast of the Nammu, a full seasons traveling. It was said that he had a
potion. A magick potion that allowed one to hear the voice of The
Dragon.

I glared at him and said, "I've brewed many a tea with the Witches Root,
its all been for naught."

He looked at me, and said, "No this is no simple witches root. This is
made from the blood of The Dragon herself!" It was true in ancient days
before her wounds fully healed, pools of The Dragon's blood where
sometimes found. The blood was collected and held as a treasure by the
wise. Its was the cornerstone of the greatest Magicks in all Mura.
Mother was known to have a tiny vial of the blood, and a few others, but
it was exceedingly rare even then child.

"Why would he share this gift with me?" I asked

"You've the finest voice in all Mura Lady, and other gifts. I doubt a
man lives who could deny you anything." he said, and I smiled.

I made a few inquires of the local wise women. They had heard of the
Magician, but warned against him. They said if one needed a Potion to
hear The Dragon, one was not meant to hear her at all.

"but what of the Witches Root."

"That, allows you to hear her the more clearly, but does not lend
hearing to the deaf."

I did learn in the end that if such a thing would be done, it should be
done at the fall festival, on the night of the Feast of the Dead, when
the veil is thinnest. So I set out on Midsummer's eve, and made my way
up the coast. Looking for a Castle fashioned of the Star Stone. A stone
black as pitch, but by moonlight seems to shine with the light of
hundreds of inner stars. Well loved by the Elves and Murian. Three days
before the Feast of the Dead, I found it. I played outside the gates
till they opened and a servant let me in. For the next two nights I was
allowed to entertain the Wizard after dinner. Then on the Third night,
on the night of the Feast itself, with the Castle quite strangely quiet
for the night of a great feast. I sat at the table with the Magician and
he began to speak.

"I've seen bird and beast pause in awed silence as you walk by. Flowers
seem to turn to you as you stroll through the gardens. I'm not one of
those fools who looks right past you, while you sing. I know the signs,
what brings a daughter of Isis to my house."

"I wish to hear The Whishper of The Dragon, to learn my intent and know
my True Heart."

"Tell me more."

"What is there to tell. Isis has her Magicks, Ra his Wars, Innana has
Ra, and Horus has the Garden. Each is content, each has what they want."

"And what do you want Tsulsala?" It was the first time anyone had called
me this name.

"I WANT IT ALL!" I ROARED. The table splintering beneath my fist.

He smiled, "See you dont need a dragon to tell you your intent, you know
exactly what you want. Your quest has not been wasted however, I can
help you."

"How!"

He motioned to a serving girl, who brought a fine chalice filled with a
dark wine. "Drink this, and by it you will be empowered to pursue your
dream."

"I dont understand."

"It not a thing words can say, drink of the cup and you will know. Or
shall I send her away."

I had not traveled all this way to leave empty handed. I had not
searched for my Intent for so many lives of men to throw away a chance
to seize it now. With trembling hands I picked up the Chalice and Drank.
The Wine flowed through me, washed over me, left me so amazingly empty.
Oh I could cry. Then without thinking. I seized the serving girl,
plunged fangs that had not been there a moment before into her and drank
her. Her hopes, her fears, her whole life from the moment she was born
to the terror of my embrace flooded into me. I had her she was mine now.
She would live forever in my dreams, but she would always be part of me.
Even as I swallowed the last drop of blood, the burning emptiness
returned, it was agony.

"What have you done to me! I shrieked." Sobbing Pounding the floor.

"Just as I said, You want it all, now you can have it all! In fact you
will know no rest till you have gathered every soul in all Mura into
yourself!"

"I looked up, and finally saw through the disguise. The Magician was
long dead, and the Spirit of Set was in him, filling his body, using
him. And Set laughed loudly."

In my Fury I rose, and smashed my fist across the Magicians face,
beheading him. "One less puppet for you!" I spat, but of course I could
not escape my fate and for the 6000 years since I have ruled the night.
Queen of Hunger, Mistress to Shadow. Second only to Set himself in the
Scales of Darkness.
-------------------

The booth fell quiet and I realized she had finished her tale.

"Your really her, I mean Tsulsala the Queen."

She smiled a knowing slightly wicked smile, "Of course child."

"Do you mean too.." I could not bring myself to say it.

"No, well not now at any rate, not for quite sometime child."

"Then what do you want of me."

"I want you to fulfill your dreams little Moondreamer. I want you to
take your songs, and leave this hamlet and give them to the world, and
when you do, play for them my song as well, please."

"But I"

"Have nothing to fear, accept my gift, that silver coin, and so long as
you have it you will never go hungry again. Where ever you go fortune
will smile on you, and no matter how you seem to tumble you will always
land a'right."

"Live fearlessly and know you are in my grace."

* * *

In the pure cleansing light of the morning sun, it all seemed so unreal,
and I had half convinced myself it had been unreal. A dream brought on
by too much witches root. Except it had been quite some time since I
could afford any witches root.

But when I went down to the common room for breakfast there was quite a
hub hub. The lady of the house was serving breakfast, and was not at all
amused, and the serving girl was no where to be found. "Probably still
sleeping with her head on the chest of some young man." The lady of the
house muttered.

Yet, Her bed had been slept in, and then roughly made. At the foot of
her bed where her clothes from the night before folded into a neat pile
with an odd silver coin placed neatly on top at the center of her folded
blouse.

Someone was suggesting looking for her in the stables, if she was with a
young man they might be in the hay loft, and without thinking I said
aloud. "You'll never find her."

Now everyone stopped and was looking at me. I could hardly tell them
that the Queen of Hunger had spent the night under their roof, why
burden them with that terror? So I just said, there are stories with
these signs. And in all of them, the person lost is never found. As I
was the village story keeper, they accepted what I said without further
inquiry.

I left home for many years with-in the fortnight.

* * *

Tsulsala, was true to her word and I've lived a life I could have
scarcely imagined.

And Tsulsala's Song. It became known as "The Narrar," I have never been
able to remember more than the first few notes, but once I begin to
play, it just flows out of me. Its bitter sweet melody became my
signature, filling my hat with silver and gold. I traveled the roads for
50 years singing my songs, for Chatti, Murian, even the Elves! Overtime
I became well known to many, and well loved by more than a few.

Many others have tried to play the Narrar, but not one ever got it
right. When in frustration a fellow Bard asks me how to play the piece I
can only answer. "I was taught by a Goddess and only she can teach it
right." And each and everyone just nods and whispers, "I thought it must
be like that."

At last I could travel no more. I'm past 80 now, ancient for a Chatti
woman. For the last year my eyes have been so dim, I cannot even leave
my cottage, and can scarcely tell night from day. My granddaughter looks
after me now. She does look like the rouge who gave me her mother. She
smiles and says "sure grans," when I tell her I was a counselor to kings
and lover to princes at her age, but I was!

Days and Nights flow by so quickly. Then a night comes. I feel a cup, no
a chalice pressed into my hand. I start to drink. I drink more deeply.
Its hot, like blood fresh from the cut, and spirited like raw whiskey.
My eyes focus, my bosom feels full again. My skin feels smooth again. I
stand up and look in the Mirror, and see myself as I was in my thirties.
I see a woman in the prime of her life. Over my shoulder I see Tsulsala.

Dont look for me, dont waste your time. I expect you will find my
clothes neatly folded, with a silver coin in the center of them as a
tort. Although I think I deserve gold!

Tsulsala's, hand rests gently on my shoulder as she waits for me to
finish these last lines. I am not afraid. I have lived my life
fearlessly too long to be afraid now. Soon I will play my Lyre in her
dreams, while a loving couple rolls in the snow. It is my moment to
return my gift to she who has given me so much. I go to her without
hesitation. One last seduction to surrender too, One last ecstasy to
embrace. Oh what a song it would make!

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2a.: File - TeachMe.html

Posted by: "Witch_Essentials@yahoogroups.com" Witch_Essentials@yahoogroups.com

Mon Nov 1, 2010 3:09 am (PDT)

*** Your Title Here ***
Teach me something ....

Post A Favorite poem, or a Verse from that Poem
Tell me how that makes you feel about the Goddess

Link to a Pic of a Favorite Card at Taroteca
<http://taroteca.multiply.com/photos/album/377/Fenestra#3#photo=3\
> tell me how you feel about that card.

Review a Favorite Book that taught your something about the
Tarot,
or gave you a spiritual insight

Nuff Said ...

It's your turn now,
Especially if your a lurker here

Teach Me Something....

Brightest Blessings All, BB.

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3.: All Souls Day

Posted by: "blackbird" blackbird_61@yahoo.com blackbird_61

Mon Nov 1, 2010 7:47 am (PDT)

Good Morning,
I do very much hope you had a lovely Samhain, and the Goddess Blessed your ritual.

Today of course is All Souls Day,
the day our Christian, and Christ-Witch friends Honor their Dead, pause and reflect on persons who have blessed their lives, safe in the knowledge that those have past have found their way to the Fathers Bosom; We wish them Brightest Blessings on this special and solemn day. BB.
I am the Cup which holds Eternity.
        All other Cups
Have their Source in Me.

I am the Cup which holds Eternity.
        All other Cups
Have their Source in Me.

I am the Cup which holds Eternity.
        All other Cups
Have their Source in Me.
                   The Goddess Innana.

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4.: "Spellbound": Inside the witch camps of West Africa

Posted by: "blackbird" blackbird_61@yahoo.com blackbird_61

Mon Nov 1, 2010 8:10 am (PDT)

If I might recommend your attention to the following piece. BB.

Every so often, strange reports come from Africa â€" about vampires terrorizing Malawi villages, penis-theft panics sweeping through Congo, or albinos being murdered for their supposedly magical body parts in Tanzania. These items appear in the press, maybe inspire a bit on "The Daily Show" and generally leave Westerners scratching their heads. They seem to fall into the news category of kooky things some people believe in, like the mystical powers of crystals, or Bigfoot and Icelandic elves.

But witchcraft in Africa is no comical curiosity, as Canadian journalist Karen Palmer eloquently demonstrates in her new book, "Spellbound: Inside West Africa's Witch Camps." Palmer who first learned about the camps from a human rights report, decided to visit one while on a six-month fellowship in Ghana in 2007. The makeshift settlements are populated by accused witches, mostly women, exiled from their home villages.

Read More here: http://www.salon.com/books/laura_miller/2010/10/24/spellbound/index.html

I am the Cup which holds Eternity.
All other Cups
Have their Source in Me.
The Goddess Innana.

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