Goddess Blessings Quotes

Now to find Tristan, if he survived the excitement. I hope he did. I have some things to say to him, and none of them are 'Goddess bless'. -Numair Salmalin

But how could anyone be grateful for what they have if they didn’t know what it was like not to have what they need?

[The Old Astronomer to His Pupil] Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, I would know him when we meet, When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet; He may know the law of all things, yet be ignorant of how We are working to completion, working on from then to now. Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete, Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet, And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original and true, And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on you. But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn, You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn, What for us are all distractions of men's fellowship and smiles; What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles. You may tell that German College that their honor comes too late, But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant's fate. Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. What, my boy, you are not weeping? You should save your eyes for sight; You will need them, mine observer, yet for many another night. I leave none but you, my pupil, unto whom my plans are known. You 'have none but me,' you murmur, and I 'leave you quite alone'? Well then, kiss me, -- since my mother left her blessing on my brow, There has been a something wanting in my nature until now; I can dimly comprehend it, -- that I might have been more kind, Might have cherished you more wisely, as the one I leave behind. I 'have never failed in kindness'? No, we lived too high for strife,-- Calmest coldness was the error which has crept into our life; But your spirit is untainted, I can dedicate you still To the service of our science: you will further it? you will! There are certain calculations I should like to make with you, To be sure that your deductions will be logical and true; And remember, 'Patience, Patience,' is the watchword of a sage, Not to-day nor yet to-morrow can complete a perfect age. I have sown, like Tycho Brahe, that a greater man may reap; But if none should do my reaping, 'twill disturb me in my sleep So be careful and be faithful, though, like me, you leave no name; See, my boy, that nothing turn you to the mere pursuit of fame. I must say Good-bye, my pupil, for I cannot longer speak; Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision grows too weak: It is strange the pearly planet should look red as fiery Mars,-- God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst the stars.

Young man, two are the forces most precious to mankind. The first is Demeter, the Goddess. She is the Earth -- or any name you wish to call her -- and she sustains humanity with solid food. Next came Dionysus, the son of the virgin, bringing the counterpart to bread: wine and the blessings of life's flowing juices. His blood, the blood of the grape, lightens the burden of our mortal misery. Though himself a God, it is his blood we pour out to offer thanks to the Gods. And through him, we are blessed.

Ersken gathered the dice, put them in the cup they had used for play, and tucked it inside one bound Rat's shirt. "Let that be a lesson to you not to gamble," he told the Rat soberly. "The trickster asks you pay for any luck you may have, one way or another." "Bless the boy, he's a priest with it," one of the Goddess warriors said with a grin. "After this, laddie, what's say I take you home and rub some of that off yez?" Ersken actually winked at her! "Forgive me, gracious warrior, but my woman would turn me into something unnatural if I took you up on your kind offer," he replied as if he truly regretted it. "She's a mage and I'd best stay devoted.

This is for Phoebe,' she snarled in his ear. 'For Kinzie. For all those you killed. You will die at the hands of a girl.' Orion thrashed and fought, but Reyna's will was unshakeable. The power of Athena infused her cloak. Bellona blessed her with strength and resolve. Not one but two powerful goddesses aided her, yet the kill was for Reyna to complete. Complete it she did.

The house swallowed them. Dylan put his hands on Kim's and Liam's shoulders. "The Goddess bless you both." He kissed Kim's forehead. "Thank you Kim." He smiled and walked away. Liam watched him, his heart full. "Is he thanking me for getting pregnant?" Kim asked. "It wasn't difficult, with all the sex we kept having. You did as much as I did.

Zoe—" I said. "Stars," she whispered. "I can see the stars again, my lady." A tear trickled down Artemis's cheek. "Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight." "Stars," Zoe repeated. Her eyes fixed on the night sky. And she did not move again. Thalia lowered her head. Annabeth gulped down a sob, and her father put his hands on her shoulders. I watched as Artemis cupped her hand above Zoe's mouth and spoke a few words in Ancient Greek. A silvery wisp of smoke exhaled from Zoe's lips and was caught in the hand of the goddess. Zoe's body shimmered and disappeared. Artemis stood, said a kind of blessing, breathed into her cupped hand and released the silver dust to the sky. It flew up, sparkling, and vanished. For a moment I didn't see anything different. Then Annabeth gasped. Looking up in the sky, I saw that the stars were brighter now. They made a pattern I had never noticed before—a gleaming constellation that looked a lot like a girl's figure—a girl with a bow, running across the sky. "Let the world honor you, my Huntress," Artemis said. "Live forever in the stars.

I was told that Ganesha sat between Lakshmi and Saraswati. My quest to attain the blessings of both goddesses explains my physique.

Mother Earth Speaks: You live in my womb, learn from my seasons and grow old in my arms Listen to my heart I give you garments woven in gold I bless your arrival then let you fly free knowing forever we are one you and I

She keeps looking at you.” Ansel tripped over a stray limb, nearly landing face-first in the snow. Absalon leapt sleekly from his path. “Of course she does. I’m objectively beautiful. A masterpiece made flesh.” Ansel snorted. “Excuse me?” Offended, I kicked snow in his direction, and he nearly tumbled again. “I don’t think I heard you correctly. The proper response was, ‘Goddess Divine, of course thy beauty is a sacred gift from Heaven, and we mortals are blessed to even gaze upon thy face.’” “Goddess Divine.” He laughed harder now, brushing the snow from his coat. “Right.

To Selene (Moon) Hear, Goddess queen, diffusing silver light, bull-horn'd and wand'ring thro' the gloom of Night. With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide Night's torch extending, thro' the heav'ns you ride: Female and Male with borrow'd rays you shine, and now full-orb'd, now tending to decline. Mother of ages, fruit-producing Moon [Mene], whose amber orb makes Night's reflected noon: Lover of horses, splendid, queen of Night, all-seeing pow'r bedeck'd with starry light. Lover of vigilance, the foe of strife, in peace rejoicing, and a prudent life: Fair lamp of Night, its ornament and friend, who giv'st to Nature's works their destin'd end. Queen of the stars, all-wife Diana hail! Deck'd with a graceful robe and shining veil; Come, blessed Goddess, prudent, starry, bright, come moony-lamp with chaste and splendid light, Shine on these sacred rites with prosp'rous rays, and pleas'd accept thy suppliant's mystic praise.

When you dance, sister, you feel in your heart the blessing of the Goddess, her peace, her kindness. But when you are with him, then the power of the Goddess is in your heart, crashing through you. The Goddess is no thing of stone. The Goddess is breath, desire, despair. She is the green of the brushing leaf, the baby's cry, the lovers bite, the fragrance of the rose. You feel the Goddess moving through you.

Go ahead, spit it out,” she muttered. “You look…” Like a goddess of love and war and hope and ecstasy. Like a glimmering star that I have somehow been blessed to hold. Like the rest of my life. “…nice.” He wanted to kick himself. Ventress

I listened mesmerized, visualizing the goddess with her divine mate, wondering if it was possible for humans to replicate this perfect relationship. Would I be blessed with such a love in my life?

When the Goddess of Wealth comes to give you her blessing, you shouldn’t leave the room to wash your face. —Hindu Proverb

May the four winds gather & disperse the strength to grant me with all the same blessings once bestowed upon the goddess of Olympus.

The silvered glamour of the Woman of the Winter Moon may be woman in her greatest power, woman in her guise as Elemental, as Force of Nature. This is woman to be revered. She is a concentration of feminine wisdom gathered and concentrated over the years, blended with the astral knowledge of the soul-star, and blessed by the traditions of the Sacred Feminine that she has made herself, or resurrected from Time, and passed living and intact to her daughters.

Great Goddess, Great God, I come before you at the end of another day and thank you for the many blessings in my life. For friends and family and pets, for home and health and good food. I thank you for (the names of whichever people crossed my path that day in meaningful ways) and for (whatever good things happened or whichever not-so-great things they helped me survive.). Please help me to get a good night's sleep so I might wake in the morning refreshed and energized and ready to face another day. Watch over me and those I love. So mote it be.

Go ahead, spit it out,” she muttered. “You look…” Like a goddess of love and war and hope and ecstasy. Like a glimmering star that I have somehow been blessed to hold. Like the rest of my life. “…nice.” He wanted to kick himself.

Much of what is written on the craft is biased in one way or another, so weed out what is useful to you and ignore the rest. I see the next few years as being crucial in the transformation of our culture away from the patriarchal death cults and toward the love of life, of nature, of the female principle. The craft is only one path among the many opening up for women, and many of us will blaze new trails as we explore the uncharted country of our own interiors. The heritage, the culture, the knowledge of the ancient priestesses, healers, poets, singers, and seers were nearly lost, but a seed survived the flames that will blossom in a new age into thousands of flowers. The long sleep of Mother Goddess is ended. May She awaken in each of our hearts ~~ Merry meet, merry part, and blessed be.

In antiquity, Hekate was loved and revered as the goddess of the dark moon. People looked to her as a guardian against unseen dangers and spiritual foes. All was well until Persephone, the goddess of spring, was kidnapped by Hades and ordered to live in the underworld for three months each year. Persephone was afraid to make the journey down to the land of the dead alone, so year after year Hekate lovingly guided her through the dark passageway and back. Over time Hekate became known as Persephone's attendant. But because Persephone was also the queen of the lower world, who ruled over the dead with her husband, Hades, Hekate's role as a guardian goddess soon became twisted and distorted until she was known as the evil witch goddess who stalked the night, looking for innocent people to bewitch and carry off to the underworld. Today few know the great goddess Hekate. Those who do are blessed with her compassion for a soul lost in the realm of evil. Some are given a key.

God's name and God are the same. The chanting, singing, japa, and meditation of God's all-powerful and purifying names are at the heart of all methods of sadhana. God's name is everything. Repeat it always and be blessed. Then we can be sure we are progressing in our search for the Divine Mother who dwells in the very core of our being.

Let my path be blessed. Let the path of all those on this journey be blessed. Let the path of all those not on this journey be blessed.

The girl is bending low, wanting to be blessed, and I, Lovely, am feeling like a kind of goddess, a kind of saint, believing when you love him let him go.

I am blessed by goddess durga beyond someone can imagine and measure.

The Royal Sun Goddess, Heiress to the Realms of Light, Blessed of the Sun, Second of the Blood, and enemy of my people, was a blithering idiot.

Anaral shook her head. “It is not in the goddess’s nature to destroy. She sends blessings. It is us, it is people who are destructive.” She left the tent abruptly.

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose, Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver, Give unto the flying hart Space to breath, how short soever: Thou that mak'st a day of night- Goddess excellently bright.

Spirit-Filled One, Your Grandma is God and so are your favorite star and rock. God has many names and many faces. God is Mother, Daughter, and Wise Old Crone. She is found in your mothers, in your daughters, and in you. God is the God of Sarah, and Hagar, of Leah and Rachel. She is Mother of all Living, and blessed are Her daughters. You are girl-woman made in Her image. You can run fast, play hard, and climb trees. You are Batwoman, firewoman, and Goddess. The spirit of the universe pulsates through you. Be full of yourself. You are good. You are very good.

To Hera O Royal Hera of majestic mien, aerial-form'd, divine, Zeus' blessed queen, Thron'd in the bosom of cærulean air, the race of mortals is thy constant care. The cooling gales thy pow'r alone inspires, which nourish life, which ev'ry life desires. Mother of clouds and winds, from thee alone producing all things, mortal life is known: All natures share thy temp'rament divine, and universal sway alone is thine. With founding blasts of wind, the swelling sea and rolling rivers roar, when shook by thee. Come, blessed Goddess, fam'd almighty queen, with aspect kind, rejoicing and serene.

Hrgh… I am daunted by no curse…a-and yet… Kazuma! What shall we do?! Look at the terrible eyes burning within that Dullahan’s helm! Those are the eyes of one who would take me to his castle as his sex prisoner and force me to do all kinds of freaky hard-core porno stuff if I want to break this curse!” “…Huh?” said the Dullahan, having clearly not expected to be called out as a pervert in front of the whole town. I felt a little bad for him.

An Arch-priest who knew every healing spell. An Arch-wizard who could use the world’s strongest magic. And a Crusader with an impenetrable defense. It sounded perfect on paper. And yet right now, the only feeling I had about the future was a bad one.

I kneel on the planks for her blessing, and then sit beside her with my feet dangling over the edge and my own reflection looking up at me as if I were a water goddess living under the river, waiting to be released from an enchantment, and not a spinster princess that nobody wants.

On this beautiful evening, here with so many friends, I offers thanks to whatever gods or goddesses we all pray to: for our our blessings, for our big, beautiful imperfect country, and even for our hardships. May be look after each other, tolerate each other, and forgive each other. Amen.

Woman This Is Your Year. To be blessed by everything you hate, to shift from suffering to ecstasy of ache. This is your year to no longer be who you were, to rise from the embers, to be guided by Her. This is your year to be carried by grace, out of the matrix and away from the race. This is your year to be the clear-visioned goddess, to bear the heaviness of crown, a sacred promise. This is your year to live the life of your dreams, to heal, to witness, to be the one who queens. This is your year to forever change the rest, to un-tame, to shift, to lead, and to live blessed.

I have of sorrow so great wound That joy get I never none, Now that I see my lady bright, That I have loved with all my might, Is from me dead, and is agone. Alas, Death, what aileth thee, That thou should’st not have taken me, When thou took my lady sweet, That was so fair, so fresh, so free, So good, that men may well say Of all goodness she had no meet!   Right on this same, as I have said Was wholly all my love laid For certes she was, that sweet wife, My suffisaunce, my lust, my life, Mine hap, mine health and all my bless, My world’s welfare and my goddess, And I wholly hers, and everydel.

The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end. —From the poem Journey Home by Rabindranath Tagore When the Goddess of Wealth comes to give you her blessing, you shouldn’t leave the room to wash your face. —Hindu Proverb

When I checked my Adventurer’s Card, I found a new field, AVAILABLE SKILLS. When I touched it with my finger, four skills appeared: SENSE FOE…1 POINT AMBUSH…1 POINT STEAL…1 POINT THE WONDERS OF NATURE…5 POINTS The Wonders of Nature? Was that the seed-in-a-glass party trick Aqua had shown me? That was some name for a parlor trick! …Huh? It took more skill points than everything else combined!

In time-honoured fashion, this is really the eldest daughter-in-law’s investiture as the earthly, domestic symbol of the goddess. It is she who channels Lakshmi’s blessings on the family. In her is vested, by an understanding of priestly transference, the household’s economic prosperity, well-being and harmonious daily life. Beside it, her other daily chores as eldest daughter-in-law –supervising the cook and cleaners and servants and household accounts, caring for her elderly parents-in-law, looking after their meals and medication, deciding which tasks can be ceded to the wives of her three brothers-in-law, keeping a family of twenty (including the servants) ticking over without hiccups or mishaps –all these appear as milk-and-rice, as uncomplicated, bland and digestible as infant fare.

But Lilith was not there to trick Eve. As Goddess of sex, fertility, women’s cycles, the moon, and blood mysteries, Lilith initiates naïve Eve into her own shakti—the liquid red power to heal her body, awaken her intuition, and create life itself. Lilith knows that our bleeding days unleash our physical, emotional, energetic, and spiritual powers. We see and feel things more purely and potently. Lilith defines PMS as the blessed time you become a powerful, magical Sorceress. Lilith is the Wild Woman within every woman who would rather become notorious than be refrained from bathing in the sea, howling at the moon, dancing in the forest, and making love to life itself. She wants Eve and every woman to know her worth and own her power, no matter how hard they try to keep you from it. She wants you to be the authority in your life without having to seek permission from anyone or anything outside of yourself to be or do what your heart calls you to.

On December 9, 1531, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to an Indian named Juan Diego. A carpet of roses blossoming in the dead of winter and a Madonna with a coffee-colored face appearing on Juan Diego’s robe were enough further evidence to convince the local bishop to erect a shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe. There are those who say Guadalupe is Tonantzin, an Aztec goddess who existed years before Juan Diego came along. The Spanish missionaries, knowing that she had quite a local following,

You Englishmen are all the same, when you first learn of us, you treat us like goddesses. You revere us, humbly ask for blessings, and weep with joy when you’re bestowed the smallest token. Until you want more. Until you decide that we were put on the earth to serve you, to fulfill your every request, to raise you up higher than the rest. Then, any mistake you make becomes our fault. Any deficiency you have is due to our cruel selfishness. Any pain you suffer means we’re to blame. And in the end, the best we can hope for is to not be punished for knowing you.

Goddess knows, what it is, in the depths of our Souls. As a river shall flow, our directions too unfold. Goddess knows the birth as the death opens our Souls to divinity within our sacred whole. Souls know, Love knows, Goddess knows: Into the earth, 108 feet deep, all goes which does not bless us. Bless your mother, daughter, lover, wife- For Goddess so delights when your birth breeds insight. 108 feet deep- Goddess knows within that which we weep, our Soul reaps. Love yourself, love others, be honest, kind and loving- Stay in the light for it is so bright. Goddess knows and blesses our Soul.

Bright Star Of Beauty Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit A thousand nymph-like and enamour'd Graces, The Goddesses of Memory and Wit, Which there in order take their several places; In whose dear bosom sweet delicious Love Lays down his quiver, which he once did bear, Since he that blessed Paradise did prove, And leaves his mother's lap to sport him there. Let others strive to entertain with words; My soul is of a braver metal made; I hold that vile which vulgar wit affords; In me's that faith which Time cannot invade. Let what I praise be still made good by you; Be you most worthy, whilst I am most true

Sign of Life. Now Pharaoh and his house and the priests in every temple, and indeed all Egypt went mad with joy, though there were many who in secret mourned over the sex of the infant, whispering that a man and not a woman should wear the Double Crown. But in public they said nothing, since the story of this child had gone abroad and folk declared that it was sent by the gods, and divine, and that the goddesses, Isis, Nepthys, and Hathor, with Khemu, the Maker of Mankind, were seen in the birth chamber, glowing like gold. Also Pharaoh issued a decree that wherever the name of the Queen Ahura was graven in all the land, to it should be added the title "By the will of Amen, Mother of his Morning Star," and that a new hall should be built in the temple of Amen in the Northern Apt, and all about it carved the story of the coming of Prince Abi and of the vision of the Queen. But Ahura never lived to see this glorious place, since from the hour of her daughter's birth she began to sink. On the fourteenth day, the day of purification, she bade the nurse bring the beautiful babe, and gazed at it long and blessed it, and spoke with the Ka or Double of the child, which she said she saw lying on her arm beside it, bidding that Ka protect it well through the dangers of life and death until the

sent by the gods, and divine, and that the goddesses, Isis, Nepthys, and Hathor, with Khemu, the Maker of Mankind, were seen in the birth chamber, glowing like gold. Also Pharaoh issued a decree that wherever the name of the Queen Ahura was graven in all the land, to it should be added the title "By the will of Amen, Mother of his Morning Star," and that a new hall should be built in the temple of Amen in the Northern Apt, and all about it carved the story of the coming of Prince Abi and of the vision of the Queen. But Ahura never lived to see this glorious place, since from the hour of her daughter's birth she began to sink. On the fourteenth day, the day of purification, she bade the nurse bring the beautiful babe, and gazed at it long and blessed it, and spoke with the Ka or Double of the child, which she said she saw lying on her arm beside it, bidding that Ka protect it well through the dangers of life and death until the hour of resurrection. Then she said that she heard Amen calling to her to pay the price which she had promised for the gift of the divine child, the price of her own life, and smiled upon Pharaoh her husband, and died happily with a radiant face. Now joy was turned to mourning, and during all the days of embalming Egypt wept for Ahura until, at length, the time came when her body was rowed

Blessed are the generous in love: for theirs is the Love of the Goddess. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the poor: for they shall inherit the Earth. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after the knowledge: for they shall be enlightened. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall be loved by the Goddess. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the avatars of the Goddess. Blessed are they who are persecuted: for theirs will be the Goddesses' justice. Blessed are you of the Goddess when the ignorant shall revile you, And persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for the Goddesses sake.

The eulogists of work. Behind the glorification of 'work' and the tireless talk of the 'blessings of work' I find the same thought as behind the praise of impersonal activity for the public benefit: the fear of everything individual. At bottom, one now feels when confronted with work—and what is invariably meant is relentless industry from early till late—that such work is the best police, that it keeps everybody in harness and powerfully obstructs the development of reason, of covetousness, of the desire for independence. For it uses up a tremendous amount of nervous energy and takes it away from reflection, brooding, dreaming, worry, love, and hatred; it always sets a small goal before one's eyes and permits easy and regular satisfactions. In that way a society in which the members continually work hard will have more security: and security is now adored as the supreme goddess.

You're going to the ball?" Luc asked. "Need an escort?" "I appreciate the offer, but I hear it's all the rage to go stag." He raised his eyebrows. "Besides, I think your brother might take it amiss." "I thought you two were... taking a break?" "I'd like to wait and see. He's only gone for a couple of weeks." "I'll take you," Aidan interrupted again. "I was planning on going, myself." "Dude, I'll take you," echoed Conrad from his seat at the counter. "Thanks guys." I had to smile. This for a witch who was quite literally banned from any and all high school dances. "But, really, I sort of like the idea of going solo." Just then we all looked around as the bell on the front door tinkled again, this time announcing the arrival of Inspector Carlos Romero. "Blessed goddess!" Bronwyn exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "Don't tell me you're here to ask Lily out as well? I'm beginning to feel like a dueña." "No," Carlos said, looking puzzled.

From the day I entered in to this world and opened My eyes N to The day I passed away from this world and closed My eyes U cared of me ...... U taught me...... U shown d ryt path.... U cried for me.... U missed me... U loved me.... I never forget d moment ... I hold ur hand to start walking on d floor I never forget d moment .. U r afraid of me when I started walking for d first time U taught me how to eat U showed me how to read U taught me how to respect others U cared of me when I felt sick U prayed for god for my happiness U blessed me to achieve all my goals U cherished me when I won medals U fought with others when they spoke wrong abt me U buyed clothes for d spcl moment of mine U prepared fruit salads n made me to eat U roamed along with me U waited for me N U made me believe U r my first sight U r my first luv U r my first teacher U r my first guide U r my first goddesses U r my belief N u r the only one who gives every thing N expects nothing in all aspects of my life Forgive if i can't love u more than u love me Give me some time to make u realize I am loving u...... ♡♡♡♡ MOM ♡◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆●●●●●●●◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆♡

Before the shrinking of the Feminine was the Goddess—and all that is split in our own lives was in harmony in Hers. She was profoundly in Her body. Her body itself was sacred. In the Old Religion, body and spirit were one. She was seen as substantial, as essentially embodied. Her thighs, Her Belly, Her breasts were generous, Her physical strength apparent. We miss the beauty of such an image, we who have been taught to measure ourselves endlessly. Too fat, too thin, too flat, too wrinkled. Our bodies are never good, and in themselves. We must deny our naturalness to see beauty. What we learn to reject was once holy. What we learn to hide behind closed doors was once celebrated in the open. Blood was sacred to the Goddess—menstrual blood. Some of Her images were painted red between the legs. What some of us and many of our mothers learned to see as 'the curse' was once seen as the Blessing, women's particular creative magic. The blood that flows of itself and not from a wounding was thought to be the very source of life. One early creation tale stated than when the Mother created man and woman, She made them from a mixture of Her menstrual blood and clay. Moreover, every woman carried some of the Goddess's sacred substance and participated in Her ability to create life.

The mythological hero setting forth from his common-day hut or castle is lured, carried away, or else voluntarily proceeds, to the threshold of adventure. There, he encounters a shadow presence that guards the passage. The hero may defeat or conciliate this power and go alive into the kingdom of the dark (brother battle, dragon battle, offering, charm) or be slain by the opponent and descend in death (dismemberment, crucifiction). Beyond this threshold, then, the hero journeys through a world of unfamilir yet strangely intimate forces, some of which severely threaten him (tests), some of which give him magical aid (helpers). When he arrives at the nadir of the mythological round, he undergoes a supreme ordeal and gains his reward. The triumph may be represented as the hero's sexual union with the goddess-mother of the world (sacred marriage), his recognition by the father-creator (father atonement), his own divination (apotheosis), or again - if the powers have remained unfriendly to him - his theft of the boon he came to gain (bride-theft, fire-theft), intrinsically, it is an expansion of consciousness and therewith of being (illumination, transfiguration, freedom). The final work is that of return. If the powers have blessed the hero, he now sets forth under their protection (emissary); if not, he flees and is pursued (transformational flight). At the return threshold, the transcendental powers must remain behind;; the hero re-emerges from the kingdom of dread (resurrection, return). The boon that he brings restores the world (elixir, eternal life).

Few things once seemed to me more frigid and far-fetched than those interpretations […] of the Song of Songs, which identify the Bridegroom with Christ and the bride with the Church. Indeed, as we read the frank erotic poetry of the latter and contrast it with the edifying headlines in our Bibles, it is easy to be moved to a smile, even a cynically knowing smile, as if the pious interpreters were feigning an absurd innocence. […] First, the language of nearly all great mystics, not even in a common tradition, some of them Pagan, some Islamic, most Christian, confronts us with evidence that the image of marriage, of sexual union, is not only profoundly natural but almost inevitable as a means of expressing the desired union between God and man. The very word ‘union’ has already entailed some such idea. Secondly, the god as bridegroom, his ‘holy marriage’ with the goddess, is a recurrent theme and a recurrent ritual in many forms of Paganism […] And if, as I believe, Christ, in transcending and thus abrogating, also fulfils, both Paganism and Judaism, then we may expect that He fulfils this side of it too. This, as well as all else, is to be ‘summed up’ in Him. Thirdly, the idea appears, in a slightly different form, within Judaism. For the mystics God is the Bridegroom of the individual soul. For the Pagans, the god is the bridegroom of the mother-goddess, the earth, but his union with her also makes fertile the whole tribe and its livestock, so that in a sense he is their bridegroom too. The Judaic conception is in some ways closer to the Pagan than to that of the mystics, for in it the Bride of God is the whole nation, Israel. This is worked out in one of the most moving and graphic chapters of the whole Old Testament (Ezek. 16). Finally, this is transferred in the Apocalypse from the old Israel to the new, and the Bride becomes the Church, ‘the whole blessed company of faithful people’. It is this which has, like the unworthy bride in Ezekiel, been rescued, washed, clothed, and married by God—a marriage like King Cophetua’s.

THE RETURN OF THE GODS Like a white bird upon the wind, the sail of the boat of Manannan mac Lir (Pronounced Mananarn mak Leer), the Son of the Sea, flew across the sparkling waves filled with the breeze that blew Westward to the Islands of the Blessed. The Sun Goddess above him smiled down with warmth upon her friend. The fish in the ocean danced for him beneath the turquoise water; the porpoises leapt above the waves to greet him. Upon the wind was a smell of sweetness, the smell of apple blossom in the Spring of the morning of the world. And in the prow of the boat sat Lugh (Pronounced Loo) the long-armed; strumming on his harp, he sang the Song of Creation. And as they drew closer to the green hills of Ireland, the holy land of Ireland, the Shee came out of their earth-barrow homes and danced for joy beneath the Sun. For hidden in a crane-skin sack at the bottom of the boat was the Holy Cup of Blessedness. Long had been her journeying through lands strange and far. And all who drank of that Cup, dreamed the dreams of holy truth, and drank of the Wine of everlasting life. And deep within the woods, in a green-clad clearing, where the purple anemone and the white campion bloomed, where primroses still lingered on the shadowed Northern side, a great stag lifted up his antlered head and sniffed the morning. His antlers seven-forked spoke of mighty battles fought and won, red was his coat, the colour of fire, and he trotted out of his greenwood home, hearing on the wind the song of Lugh. And in her deep barrow home, the green clad Goddess of Erin, remembered the tongue that she had forgotten. She remembered the secrets of the weaving of spells, She remembered the tides of woman and the ebb and flow of wave and Moon. She remembered the people who had turned to other Gods and coming out of her barrow of sleep, her sweet voice echoed the verses of Lugh and the chorus of Manannan. And the great stag of the morning came across the fields to her and where had stood the Goddess now stood a white hind. And the love of the God was returned by the Goddess and the larks of Anghus mac Og hovering above the field echoed with ecstasy the Song of Creation. And in the villages and towns the people came out of their houses, hearing the sweet singing and seeking its source. And children danced in the streets with delight. And they went down to the shore, the Eastern shore, where rises the Sun of the Morning, and awaited the coming of Manannan and Lugh, the mast of their boat shining gold in the Sun. The sea had spoken, the Eastern dawn had given up her secret, the Gods were returning, the Old Ones awakening, joy was returning unto the sleeping land.  

Return to civilisation was hard, but, in the sanctuary of the Blessed Goddess we had found the lasting peace which is the reward of those who seek to know high mountain places.

Judge: Mr. Larch, you've heard the case for the prosecution. Is there anything you wish to say before I pass sentence? Mr. Larch: Well... I'd just like to say, m'lud, I've got a family ... a wife and six kids ... and I hope very much you don't have to take away my freedom ... because ... well, because m'lud, freedom is a state much prized within the realm of civilized society. It is a bond wherewith the savage man may charm the outward hatchments of his soul, and soothe the troubled breast into a magnitude of quiet. It is most precious as a blessed balm, the savior of princes, the harbinger of happiness, yea, the very stuff and pith of all we hold most dear. What frees the prisoner in his lonely cell, chained within the bondage of rude walls, far from the owl of Thebes? What fires and stirs the woodcock in his springe or wakes the drowsy apricot betide? What goddess doth the storm-tossd mariner offer most tempestuous prayers to? Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Judge: It's only a bloody parking offence.

In the early centuries Rome’s dead had been cremated; now, usually, they were buried, though some obstinate conservatives preferred combustion. In either case, the remains were placed in a tomb that became an altar of worship upon which pious descendants periodically placed some flowers and a little food. Here, as in Greece and the Far East, the stability of morals and society was secured by the worship of ancestors and by the belief that somewhere their spirits survived and watched. If they were very great and good, the dead, in Hellenized Roman mythology, passed to the Elysian Fields, or the Islands of the Blessed; nearly all, however, descended into the earth, to the shadowy realm of Orcus and Pluto. Pluto, the Roman form of the Greek god Hades, was armed with a mallet to stun the dead; Orcus (our ogre) was the monster who then devoured the corpse. Because Pluto was the most exalted of the underground deities, and because the earth was the ultimate source of wealth and often the repository of accumulated food and goods, he was worshiped also as the god of riches and plutocrats; and his wife Proserpina—the strayed daughter of Ceres—became the goddess of the germinating corn. Sometimes the Roman Hell was conceived as a place of punishment;72 in most cases it was pictured as the abode of half-formless shades that had been men, not distinguished from one another by reward or punishment, but all equally suffering eternal darkness and final anonymity. There at last, said Lucian, one would find democracy.73

Oh, Green Tara, Goddess of Night, You wield great strength, a loving might, Help goodness speak and evil leave, That Grace’s fears shall be relieved. Goddess Tara, bless this home, Let restless spirits no longer roam, Darkness banish, light be free, As I will, so mote it be.

Everyday Sorceress Blessing May you make your own magic out of weeds and wonder. May you create your own enchantments from the stuff of mud and memory. May you spin your own spells from threads of raindrops and roses. May you breathe in the knowing that you hold the power to make the world anew, your fingers the instruments of a fresh song. For Lara Howard.

I shall live I shall be free Goddess goddess I am thee... Mother Goddess, keep me whole Let thy beauty fill my soul Maiden Goddess, keep me whole Let thy power fill my soul Crone Goddess, keep me whole Let thy wisdom fill my soul... Blessed be the Maiden within me For she bringeth courage and freedom Blessed be the Mother within me For she bringeth love and life Blessed be the Crone within me For she bringeth wisdom and understanding... We are the flow, we are the ebb We are the weavers, we are the web... I am whole unto myself Centered in the Kore of me I shall give and shall receive Goddess goddess loves me... Let my magic be. Let all illness Be cast from me Cleansed of all impurity Free from all wrongs I may have done 'Til goodness And love And I Are one...

Brigid in the Kitchen Brigid, bless the things I create And the things I did not create: Honey from the hive, Milk from the cow, Salt from the sea.

On this beautiful evening ... here with so many friends, I offer thanks to whatever gods or goddesses we all pray to: for our our blessings, for our big, beautiful imperfect country, and even for our hardships. May we look after each other, tolerate each other, and forgive each other. Amen.

a stone of the Gods, blessed by Inanna, Nanaja, and Enki. Two Goddesses of War and Love, and the God of Creation.

In a game, a fresh-faced adventurer could go out in the woods, spend half a day picking easily distinguishable plants and herbs, and make enough money to pay for three square meals and a soft bed, too. But when in real life has there ever been such easy money? Think about it. Even in a rich country like Japan, have you ever met a laborer who spends every day of his life in a decent hotel? Minimum wage? Labor laws? What are those? Are they tasty? Welcome to your RPG fantasy.

In our culture, Mother Moon is a goddess who blesses you with someone she knows needs you. That means they're not going to be perfect. They could be weak or strong, beautiful or ugly. Whatever they are, they'll carry flaws that they need the other partner’s assistance in accepting. Some flaws go away with time. Others are there to challenge you to accept yourself and grow. The general purpose, they say in school, is that our journeys are made to influence other people who have similar flaws and circumstances. Maybe individuals who survived the trauma involved in their journey don't think they need to share, but their struggles are what motivate those just beginning their path to realize that it's survivable.

Witches’ Creed Thirteen powers do the Witches claim their right of lineage by the Goddess’s name. Tie a knot and say the words or hand on head – the blessing conferred. A Witch can give success in love curse or bless through God/dess above. Speak to beasts and spirits alike command the weather, cast out a blight. Read the heavens and stars of the night divine the future and give good advice. Conjure treasure and bring fortune to bear heal the sick and kill despair. This is my birthright to have and share blessings you, dear reader, may the spirits be fair.

A perfection of the goddess Astarte, for no man could look at her provocative form without seeing in her the sublime representation of fertility. She was a girl whose purpose was to be loved, to be taken away and made fertile so that she could reproduce her grandeur and bless the earth. As ancient civilizations such as Urbaal's were destroyed, their clay images buried under ruins for eons, so were the gods and goddesses who protected and insured their growth. No longer did the sacred prostitute, the human woman who embodied the goddess, dance in the temple to excite the communication of body and soul. The temple of the goddess of love, no longer vital, went underground. Who was "the sacred prostitute"? And what happened to the developing consciousness of humankind when people no longer venerated the goddess of love, passion and sex?

The snake was an ancient symbol of the traditions which honored the Goddess and the Divine Feminine. You will see Her in ancient forms of the uroboros, a symbol of a snake that looks like it chases its tail or eats its tail. It is a symbol of the ability of the Divine Feminine to give birth and to be reborn like the snake that sheds its skin. She recreates herself for ever. The circular form of the uroboros symbol implies the interminable nature of many cycles. That was part of the Divine Feminine's wisdom, knowing the life cycles, being informed by them and living in harmony with them. Some of the Divine Feminine's mysteries were understood to be impenetrable, and it was only by the Goddess ' grace that one could enter the mysteries, that darkness, and acquire direct knowledge that the ordinary mind and ordinary words would never illuminate or touch. The Goddess gave the fruit from the tree of knowledge, and this did not like the dominating form of a male god! As a quintessential form of the Divine Feminine power of consciousness, Goddess Kundalini has been touched by those dominating modes that have influenced the development of yogic traditions. In the yogic traditions, there have been approaches that try to dominate Kundalini, forcefully push Kundalini to do this or do that by prescribing endless exercises of forced breathing and body postures that are meant to bind and force Kundalini to go in a direction that the yogi wants Her to go. Not surprisingly, these traditions are also the ones that often say Kundalini is dangerous and must be controlled. Those were also the kinds of descriptions that patriarchal dominator approaches applied to the Divine Feminine. But this power of Consciousness is indomitable, it will not be suppressed; it will always have its ways out. Through respect, love, and loyalty, the wise try to follow Her, and then they receive the good graces of this force. Devotees who consider Kundalini as the Great Goddess have a completely different experience with their caring devotion. They gain their boons, their gifts of enlightenment, without having to fear what some forceful, dominant practice may provoke. That mentality is key to understanding how we accept the blessings to be given by this remarkable inherent force of consciousness. It doesn't mean our karmas experiences in flames might not be intense. But with eager egotistical mentality there is no need to escalate issues. We are living in a time of the Goddess's return. We need her experience to educate and encourage mankind to relive cooperatively if life is to exist on this planet. We need her vision clarity, her deep compassion and her steadfast patience to live in harmony with each other and the environment. We need Kundalini Shakti's awakened state of selflessness, empowering people to reinvent culture, social structures, industries, and economic systems on a cooperative model rather than the dominant mode that brings about destruction and conflict. The more people She awakens, the more individuals there will transform the collective consciousness of families, groups, cities, businesses and countries. We are her perceptive and acting organs. We may see clearly, encouraged by Her, and act accordingly.

You know, religion -- as you understand it -- is not native to the Chinese. In times past, we grew up with stories of gods and spirits. Very colourful, they are -- we have gods in the heavens, goddesses in the sea, dragons beneath the earth and fairies on the moon. We have a monkey god full of mischief, a beggar god full of vice, and a child god full of vindictiveness. But none of those gods demand loyalty or worship. If you wanted to petition a god for something specific, then you might go to a shrine and light some joss sticks; if you were getting married or having a child, you might go again to seek a blessing. But we were never like the Christians or Muslims; we had no gods who demand obeisance so many times a day, at such-and-such frequency. We left our gods alone when we had nothing to say, and they left us alone if we had nothing to ask.

(Lament about the Evils of Darkness) Night thou foule Mother of annoyance sad, Sister of heauie death, and nourse of woe, Which wast begot in heauen, but for thy bad And brutish shape thrust downe to hell below, Where by the grim floud of Cocytus slow Thy dwelling is, in Herebus blacke hous, (Blacke Herebus thy husband is the foe Of all the Gods) where thou vngratious, Halfe of thy dayes doest lead in horrour hideous. What had th’eternall Maker need of thee, The world in his continuall course to keepe, That doest all things deface, ne lettest see The beautie of his worke? Indeed in sleepe The slouthfull bodie, that doth loue to steepe His lustlesse limbes, and drowne his baser mind, Doth praise thee oft, and oft from Stygian deepe Calles thee, his goddesse in his error blind, And great Dame Natures handmaide, chearing euery kind But well I wote, that to an heauy hart Thou art the root and nurse of bitter cares, Breeder of new, renewer of old smarts: Instead of rest thou lendest rayling teares, Instead of sleepe thou sendest troublous feares, And dreadfull visions, in the which aliue The drearie image of sad death appeares: So from the wearie spirit thou doest driue Desired rest, and men of happinesse depriue. Vnder thy mantle blacke there hidden lye, Light-shonning theft, and traiterous intent, Abhorred bloudshed, and vile felony, Shamefull deceipt, and daunger imminent; Foule horror, and eke hellish dreriment: All these I wote in thy protection bee, And light doe shonne, for feare of being shent: For light ylike is loth’d of them and thee, And all that lewdnesse loue, doe hate the light to see. For day discouers all dishonest wayes, And sheweth each thing, as it is indeed: The prayses of high God he faire displayes, And his large bountie rightly doth areed. Dayes dearest children be the blessed seed, Which darknesse shall subdew, and heauen win: Truth is his daughter; he her first did breed, Most sacred virgin, without spot of sin. Our life is day, but death with darknesse doth begin.

Goddess of the tree of Life, as the veil thins, send us our beloved dead so that we may remember and honor them. Horned god of the forest, protect us from the evil which will try to cross into our realm. Grant us the power to turn back those who would destroy us. As this new year begins, let us all be thankful and remember the past to make us strong. Bless us this coming year to bear the fruits of wisdom and joy,

I will sing of Night, the mother of gods and of humans. Nyx, the source of all things, whom we may also call Kypris, hear me, blessed goddess shining in the dark sky, filled with bright stars, rejoicing in silent nights of sleeping peace; mirthful and happy, you love all-night vigils, mother of dreams. You banish care, gently push away pains; giver of sleep, friend to all, night shining you lead your horses forth, and half the time, you wander the earth; and then, the heavens, wheeling about in your air-haunting hunt. You send forth light into the depths, then flee to Hades; for dreadful necessity governs all. Now I call on you, happy, much beloved, hearing my supplicating voice, kindly come, and drive back the fears of night.

Stacy seemed the same as always, just with a tiny waist. If you didn’t know her before, you’d just think, Wow, that woman is genetically blessed but possibly confined to wearing SKIMS and Fashion Nova unless she eats a Big Mac or eleven.

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously—no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner—no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbor he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat—the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.

Specially in Nepal and Indian simultaneously in pure consciousness soul in UK, in Europe, America, Australia, Asia and few parts of Africa they tell a fable about Shreeom as a Vishnu that: There was once a great devotee of Dhurba who prayed night and day to see his God Shreeom Vishnu. The father and mother of Dhrub name are Uttanapad and Suniti respectively. The devotion is a lesson in surrendering all one's cares and worries to the Divine Shreeom Vishnu. King Uttanapada,the son of Manu had two wives, one named Suruchi who was very dear to him and the other, Suniti, to whom he was indifferent. helpless on account of the king’s neglect. One day Suniti’s son Dhruva saw Uttama, Suruchi’s son, sitting on the lap of the king, their father. When the king took up Dhurba on his lap, a jealous Suruchi severely abused the king. Dhruva went away heart-broken to his mother, who advised him that the one way to overcome the bad effects of one’s own past actions was to seek shelter at your feet. Hearing his mother’s words, Dhruva just five years old but highly sensitive and self-respecting, very faithful and devotion left the city, determined to devote himself to Vishnu Shreeom worship. He had an opportune meeting with Sage Narada and being instructed in Shreeom sacred name, then Dhurba entered the forest of Madhu, where he engaged himself in severe austerities in adoration and devotion of Shreeom. Finally because of such great devotion Shreeom appeared as a Vishnu and blessed Dhurba. Knowing this, Shreeom affectionately touched his cheek and his body with hand, was the seed of all sound and solving of all the problems of Dhruba. Shreeom had been provided all the necessary knowledge of the world to Dhurba . He then sang Shreeom Vishnu praise, having been purified and enlightened by Shreeom's touch. After many years Dhurba and his mother and father entered the region called Dhruva-loka and lived there joyfully even now as the Pole Star, the Dhruva Tara. That story is about thousands of years ago. Now again in this time Shreeom Vishnu is on earth as a human form with Sankha and Chakra and many Gods and Goddess, Brahmas, Devis, father's and mother's soul all the time, fortunate male and female divinity and Sadhus, Santas, Pandits, scientists and presidents and prime ministers of every nations, kings and queens, pure and Knowledgeable existence are with Shreeom.

My Letter to God: Source of all. What’s happening? Why the confusion? Why do I still continue to make life so difficult for myself? I am so blessed, so free, so spiritually rich, yet still can’t grasp who I am or even who you are! There are so many contradictions. There is so much I don’t understand. I don’t know where I belong anymore. I can’t see a way to a community where I can grow/develop/explore. I still love Jesus but find his church so hard, even meaningless at times. I love the Druid path but still feel drawn to a great God/dess, a holding, healing, loving presence. Where has my Jesus gone? Where is he now? Who is he now? Can I still somehow follow you, Jesus, and also continue my Pagan journey? What is the way for me now? Please guide me. What is my new calling? I still love you!

Selene, moon goddess of the night, hear me now, High Priestess of the Coven.” Her voice was clear and somehow blocked the dull background noise from the people walking Bourbon Street, just feet away. “Bless these women, your three daughters, with your presence. We call seeking wisdom, strength and, above all, the power to protect our sister from all who seek to harm.” Mist

I had a blessing from a goddess and an ugly magical tattoo I couldn’t get rid of. Yet it was Vale who was going to give me “legitimacy.

traditional Norse blessing. Facing in each direction as he speaks, he forbids all evil from entering our lives from this point forward. After invoking the gods, our ancestors, and everyone gathered here today as our witnesses, he lights a symbolic candle to purify us so that we may enter our marriage with unadulterated love. Dipping an evergreen sprig into a bowl of holy water, he anoints Ella and me, offering his blessings before binding our hands together with the rite of the white ribbon. We recite a prayer to Frigga, the goddess of marriage, followed by our vows promising to love, honor, and cherish each other. The rings we exchange were personally chosen by Ella. A moonstone set into oxidized silver for her, and a brushed silver Tungsten band for me. As the final rite of passage into married life, the Gothi pours a goblet of mead wine and brings our free hands together around the stem, encouraging each of us to drink. Once we do, he declares us bound for eternity as husband and wife. He removes the goblet, and I bring my hand to Ella’s face, sealing our marriage with a kiss. Around us, bells begin to ring, a salute from the witnesses. But Ella and I only have eyes for each other as we seal our commitment to one another. When the Gothi opens the circle again with one last symbolic prayer, we exit to our new life amongst our family and friends. Celebrations are in order, and the chef has prepared a feast of traditional foods.

Get on your knees and repent for your sins. Pray for my forgiveness.” At the abandoned altar that hasn’t seen religion in years, I sink to my knees before my God. “Forgive me, Goddess, for I have sinned,” I whisper, the stone cold beneath my knees.

Never. We need you alive. Without you, we’re nothing. You can find another alpha. You can find dozens of Blood. We cannot find another queen. We certainly can’t find another Isador queen. The goddess blessed you for a reason. She needs you. We need you. We cannot lose you. No matter what. Our lives are nothing as long as you live and complete the goddess’s plans for you in this world.

MAY GODDESS MAHALAKSHMI BLESS YOU WITH HAPPINESS AND PROSPERITY ON THIS MAHALAKSHMI JAYANTI

I can’t explain it, after only knowing you such a short time,” he said with the earnestness of a youth shining on the face of a brutal man who’d never been blessed with a childhood. “But I know I’ve always been some sort of empty vessel, and I think I understand why my entire life I’ve never felt whole.” He pressed his hand to her heart, the palm warm as he seemed to savor what he found there. “I am not me. I am we. Us. That feels complete. My heart only seems to beat when you are near. I stand before you. No. I kneel at your feet.” He hit his knees, pressing his forehead to her fingers as if paying tribute to a goddess. “I am a man stripped of pride and wit. Of everything that gave me power. This is what I offer you. A new start. I’m asking—I’m begging—not for your forgiveness. Not for your mercy. But for you. Mercy. For you. Will you be mine? Will you let me call myself yours?

May the goddess bless you,” Lachesis said, then led her sister behind the curtain again. “I—I don’t understand,” I stammered, shaking off the final tendrils of the vision. “One of Cronus’s children is alive?

After all these optional prayers to the gurus in the person of the goddess above his head, the practitioner performs the actual yoga, the taking of empowerment called "the four initiations on the occassion of the path." From the forehead of the deity—his guru and the Blessed Lady inseparably one—there comes the white nectar and light of body; from her throat the red nectar and light of speech; from her heart the blue nectar and light of mind; and from her navel the yellow nectar and light of knowledge. These enter into the same four places of the practitioner; they fill his entire bidy, purify his four obscurations, grant him the four initiations, and through this entering into him of the empowerment of body, speech, mind, and

Goddess knows, what it is, in the depths of our Souls. As a river shall flow, our directions too unfold. Goddess knows the birth as the death opens our Souls to divinity within our sacred whole. Souls know, Love knows, Goddess knows Into the earth, 108 feet deep, all goes which does not bless us. Bless your mother, daughter, lover, wife- For Goddess so delights when your birth breeds insight. 108 feet deep- Goddess knows within that which we weep, our Soul reaps. Love yourself, love others, be honest, kind and loving- Stay in the light for it is so brights. Goddess knows and blesses our Soul.

He was not the physically strongest vampire. He was not the fiercest warrior nor the wisest sage. But they said he was blessed by the goddess Nyaxia herself, and anyone who had ever met him would swear it to be true. Power seeped from his every pore, and death stained his every breath.

Because the king of the Hiaj vampires—conqueror of the House of Night, blessed of the Goddess Nyaxia, and one of the most powerful men to have walked this realm or the next—saw a fragment of himself in this child.

Lady Rozemyne’s dark hair swayed with each step. Her tresses had the blessing of the God of Darkness, and her eyes contained the blessing of the Goddess of Light—the night sky and two golden moons, making her features exactly like how Mestionora’s were rumored to appear. Now that Lady Rozemyne had taken a form befitting her age, courtesy of Anwachs the God of Growth, there was no dissonance with calling her a true divine avatar.

When Tilman arrived, I heard from him the glad news that they had found, 1,500 feet above the river, a break in that last formidable buttress, guarding the mystic shrine of the ‘Blessed Goddess’. From where they had stood they could see that the way was clear into the Nanda Devi Basin. The last frail link in that extraordinary chain of rock-faults, which had made it possible to make our way along the grim precipices of the gorge, had been discovered;

I would choose you in this realm or the human realm or any of the rest. I would choose you always, you beautiful, sweet, unearthly creature. Mates or not, Goddess-blessed or not, there could never be a life in which I did not know you as my own.

They didn’t know quite when the moon would go, but Milo didn’t mind waiting. He’d run from every home he had, run with nothing, was nobody. It seemed beyond belief, beyond the greatest blessing of any goddess, that his arms had anything to offer her.

On this beautiful evening,” Doc said, “here with so many friends, I offer thanks to whatever gods and goddesses we all pray to: for our blessings, for our big, beautiful, imperfect country, and even for our hardships. May we look after each other, tolerate each other, and forgive each other. Amen.

Perhaps that’s why Mala appeared to me that morning, why she gave me her blessing.” “Because you’re the only one arrogant and insane enough to hunt a goddess?” “Because I’m the only one arrogant and insane enough to ask Mala Fire-Bringer to let me stay with the woman I love.” Her flames turned pure gold at the words—at that word. But she said, “Perhaps you’re just the only one arrogant and insane enough to love me.

Today, we give thanks to the cycle of rebirth For the grains, corn, and fruit that we pluck from the earth To those who carry with them the seed of new life That we reap during harvest with the basket and scythe We give thanks for the blessings upon fertile ground That keeps us fed and hale all the year-’round Everything that is and all that has been Carried forth by faithful servants within A blessing unto nature and the goddess of three Ever sacred is your will that is worked through me.

I stop in my tracks when I see her. She didn’t just come up to the roof. No, she climbed up onto one of the turrets as well. She’s there, lying against the steepled shingles, her golden skin glowing against the black stone that surrounds her. For a moment, all I can do is watch. She looks like a sunlit goddess, gleaming in the light that’s been sheltered from her, soaking up the rays as if the sun is blessed to shine on her.

In the beginning of the ancient world Prometheus stole a glowing ember from the sacred fire of the gods and gave it to all mortals to protect them from the cold of night. But Zeus, the king of the gods, became angry that such a gift had been taken, and in vengeance he decided to balance the blessing of fire with a curse. He ordered Hephaestus to sculpt a woman of exquisite beauty whose destiny was to bring great sorrow upon the human race. She was to be named Pandora. As Hephaestus molded the clay into a stunning female, a primordial evil called the Atrox watched covetously from the shadows. Once she was complete, Hermes took Pandora to Epimetheus, the brother of Prometheus, and offered her to him, as a present from Zeus. When he saw the beautiful Pandora, Epimetheus forgot his brother's warning not to accept any gifts from the great god, and took her for his bride. For her dowry, the gods had given Pandora a huge, mysterious storage jar, but the Atrox knew what lay inside. At the wedding feast, it shrewdly aroused her curiosity and convinced her to open the lid. And when she did, countless evils flew into the world. Only hope remained inside, a consolation for all the evils that had been set free. But no one saw the demon sent by the Atrox to destroy hope and kidnap Pandora. Selene, the goddess of the Moon, however, finally heard Pandora's cries and stopped the demonic creature. The Atrox studied this defeat and envisioned a way to inflict even greater suffering upon the world. It journeyed to the edge of the night and found the three sister Fates, goddesses older than time, who spun threads that predetermined the course of every life. Once they had agreed to the Atrox's plan, their decision became irrevocable. Even great Zeus could not alter their ruling. Only Selene dared to scorn their decree, and she alone vowed to change destiny.

And this God, if he exists, why does he allow women to suffer in such a way? The worst of it is that God doesn't appear to have any wife. If he was married, the Goddess, his wife, would intercede on our behalf. Through her, we would ask to be blessed with a life based on harmony. But the Goddess must exist, I keep thinking. She must be as invisible as all of us. No doubt her space is limited to the celestial kitchen.

nothing, since the story of this child had gone abroad and folk declared that it was sent by the gods, and divine, and that the goddesses, Isis, Nepthys, and Hathor, with Khemu, the Maker of Mankind, were seen in the birth chamber, glowing like gold. Also Pharaoh issued a decree that wherever the name of the Queen Ahura was graven in all the land, to it should be added the title "By the will of Amen, Mother of his Morning Star," and that a new hall should be built in the temple of Amen in the Northern Apt, and all about it carved the story of the coming of Prince Abi and of the vision of the Queen. But Ahura never lived to see this glorious place, since from the hour of her daughter's birth she began to sink. On the fourteenth day, the day of purification, she bade the nurse bring the beautiful babe, and gazed at it long and blessed it, and spoke with the Ka or Double of the child, which she said she saw lying on her arm beside it, bidding that Ka protect it well through the dangers of life and death until the hour of resurrection. Then she said that she heard Amen calling to her to pay the price which she had promised for the gift of the divine child, the price of her own life, and smiled upon Pharaoh her husband, and died happily with a radiant face. Now