Moon Meditation

To the luminous Moon which keeps within itself the seed of many species. Let there be invocation with sacrifice and prayer when the light of the Moon waxes warmer, golden hued plants grow up from the earth. During the season of spring we sacrifice to the New Moons and to the Full Moons.

The crescent of the New Moon is full of holy Peace and we sacrifice to the Angel of Peace. The bright, the glorious, the water-giving, the warmth-giving, the wisdom-giving, the thoughtfulness-giving, the freshness-giving, the healing one, the Moon of Peace! With silent and peace-giving light the Moon shines upon the pastures, the abodes, the waters, the lands and the plants of our earthly garden.

The Moon and the Sun, the holy Wind and the Stars without beginning, self-determined and self-moved, all are regulators of the Holy order, of the days and nights, of the months and years. The face of the Moon changes its aspect, yet is ever the same: as the Holy Law doth reveal a different face to each of the Children of Light, yet is unchanged in its Essence.

We invoke the New Moon and the Moon that is waning, and the Full Moon that scatters the Night, the yearly festivals and the seasons of the Heavenly Father. For it was he who gave the moon her increase and her decrease, that through her we might know the movements of the day and of the night. 

Thou silver and luminous moon! We are grateful that we may look on you and see in your reflection the blessed face of our Earthly Mother.

Among the world of the sons of men, the Brothers of Light are flames of radiance, as the stars pale in the presence of the bright and shiningmoon.

The moon walks in brightness across the sky, and delights in the Holy Law that fills our hearts with

Peace, Peace, Peace, Holy Angel of Peace

 Illumine the silver moon with thy holiness, that all may look upon its beauty and feel thy eternal Peace. The desert sky is blue with night, and we see the first ray of the New Moon chaste and beautiful. Then do the Brothers greet one another, saying, "Peace be with thee!

Peace Be With Thee!"

Wednesday Morning Communion with the Angel of Sun

Angel of Sun

She comes each morning as a bride from her chamber, to shed her golden light on the world. O thou immortal, shining, swift-steeded Angel of the Sun! There is no warmth without you, no fire without you, and no life without you. As green leaves of the trees do worship you, and through you does the tiny wheat kernel become a river of golden grass, moving with the wind. Through you is opened the flower in the center of my body. Therefore will I never hide myself from you Angel of Sun, Holy messenger of the Earthly Mother, enter the Holy Temple within me and give me the Fire of Life!

Angel of Sun, enter my body and let me bathe in the fire of life

And you will feel the rays of the rising sun enter into the center point of your body, there in the center where the angels of day and of night mingle, and the power of the sun shall be yours to direct to any part of your body, for the angels dwell therein.

Saturday Morning Communion with the Earthly Mother

Our Earthly Mother, who sends forth her Angels to guide the roots of man and sends them deep into the blessed soil, we invoke the Earthly Mother! The Holy Preserver! The Maintainer! It is she who will restore the world! The earth is hers, and the fullness of the world, and they that dwell therein. We worship the good, the strong, the beneficent Earthly Mother and all her Angels, bounteous, valiant, and full of strength; welfare-bestowing, kind, and health-giving. Through her brightness and her glory the winds blow, driving down the clouds and the plants that grow up from the earth by the never-failing springs. The Earthly Mother and I are one. I have my roots in her, and she takes her delight in me according to the Holy Law. I feel the power of the Earthly Mother flowing through my body like the river when it is swollen with rains and courses mightily with a great noise.

The Earthly Mother and I are one. Her breath is my breath; her blood is my blood; her bone, her flesh, her bowels, her eyes and ears are my bone, my flesh, my bowels, my eyes and ears. Never will I desert her, and always will she nourish and sustain my body.

Friday Morning Communion with the Angel of Air, Breath!

We worship the Holy Breath which is placed higher than all the other things created. In the midst of the fresh air of the forest and fields, there shall you find the Angel of Air. Patiently she waits for you to quit the dank and crowded holes of the city. Seek her then, and breath deeply of the healing draught which she offers thee. Breathe long and deeply that the Angel of Air may be brought within you. The rhythm of your breath is the key of knowledge. The Angel of Air soars on invisible wings: yet you must walk her unseen path if you would see the face of God. Sweeter than the finest nectar of honeyed pomegranate is the fragrance of the wind in the grove of cypress. Holy is the Angel of Air, who does cleanse all that is unclean and gives to all things a sweet odor.

Paraphrased and rendered in contemporary language from Essene Gospel of Peace Book 3 By Izora Woods

Thawght Plots: My Name Is Henny

Chapter One

My name is Henny and I am looking across a sea of grey and white. I see no other color, only the cold white grit of snow that stings like desert. I have never seen a desert. Now I see only white swirling and twisting on waves of wind against the flat grey world. Drifts begin to billow and twist out shapes in the dusky shadows. I see Buffalo; he looks at me with lazy eyes; then swirls away onto the last of the setting sun. I turn back toward our shelter when falling snow begins to drop, fat clumps of white. I look up and new formed flakes fall onto my face making me smile. I walk toward our tent and as the wind picks up I realize I have never seen a forest either. I pull back the flap and poke my head inside.

I enter, ducking low, pulling the flap tight against the wind.  I look at our dogs on one side of the fire and my mate, John on the other sitting on our fur lined bed. I ask if he checked the dogs paws. He says yes and the rough ice had caused their foot pads to crack. He greased them and wrapped them for the night. I pull at the fasteners on my parka as John points to the tea he prepared and pats the bedding beside him. I take off the last of my outside gear and sigh as I lean into him wrapping my hands around the hot cup. He asks about my walk and worries that the storm might get worse before morning. I am not concerned I tell him; we are warm in our tent, tucked into a big drift, there is enough wood close at hand and we have food for a long stay. Our footwear too is in need of repair, the storm would provide time to mend ourselves and our gear. We have been travelling this sea of white for a full moon. I am tired.

The year is 1889