Faith in Cherries

Tonight I ate cherries out of a green bowl and drank a tiny tiny stemmed glass of elderflower liquor and danced in my almost empty living room. I have emptied it of old furniture and it is like a ballroom now: hardwood floors, white curtains, empty save for a few things. In the corner, there is green velvet chair and a teak stool with three white candles. I lit the candles. Next to the long wall, my paints are spread out on a small round table next to my easel. There is a black and white watercolor of a tree. It is not finished. This, it turns out, is my altar to Brigid. The mantle covered with round rocks and ferns and green seedheads belongs to Rhiannon. The liquor cabinet with a vase of fragrant white mock orange branches belongs to Freya. She likes that.

I’m not Christian anymore, not since I was 16 and learned that sex was a sin. My teenage bullshit meter went off immediately and I never looked back. So,  being person of spiritual leaning, I have found these, the gods of my ancestors. Well, not Freya. She sneaked in. Maybe through the front door actually, being the goddess of pleasure that she is. But Brigid and Rhiannon are  the ancient goddesses of the British Isles, born of the land and language and people long before the Roman empire planted it’s bloody Christian flag in the British Isles. But that’s not what this is about. This is about dancing, in an almost empty ballroom and remembering that I love to sing when I cast the circle and invited in Freya for pleasure and Rhiannon for will and Brigid for art...

But Rhiannon really wanted singing, not just the green will of the land to grow, but the song of it. Summer is here. Have you had cherries lately? They are a sweet song. So I took one of the globe-shaped allium seedheads out of the glass on Rhiannon’s mantle and made it a microphone. And sang and sang and danced and sang. Witchy Woman! Faith, Faith, Faith!  I danced and belted it out and my voice cracked on the howls and my dog howled with me  I remembered and sang to them, to pleasure and will and art and PLEASURE and WILL And ART and SONG.

When myroommate came home I was just starting my third rendition of Faith. Three times is a spell. “Well I guess it would be nice, if you would touch my body, I know not everybody, has got a body like you..” (Freya likes that) 

I kept dancing, singing into the seedhead as my roomie walked through the front door. They said they could feel the magic from outside the house. And that the almost empty living room, wasn’t empty at all. It was thick with magic. I can still feel it now. Have you had a cherry lately?