Maia is the Greek goddess of spring, from whom we derive the name of the month of May. She was the eldest daughter of Atlas, the most beautiful of her seven sisters, all of whom we can see in the night skies in the "Pleiades" constellation.
She bore Zeus a son, Hermes, and raised another one of his children as her own when the ever-jealous Hera killed its mother.
She is sometimes referred to as the grandmother of magic, as Hermes is believed to have been the first to master the art. Incidentally, he is also credited with the invention of medicine, astrology, and letters, and was an escort of souls to the underworld - a similar role to Iris (contrasting his mother's role as bringer of life each spring).
She bore Zeus a son, Hermes, and raised another one of his children as her own when the ever-jealous Hera killed its mother.
She is sometimes referred to as the grandmother of magic, as Hermes is believed to have been the first to master the art. Incidentally, he is also credited with the invention of medicine, astrology, and letters, and was an escort of souls to the underworld - a similar role to Iris (contrasting his mother's role as bringer of life each spring).
In the deep forests where
faeries fly and pagans dance
around yonder bon fire prance
below the waning moon.
Drums of flame and strings of air
'tis what our blessed fingers play
on into the eternal of an oncoming day
below a hidden sun.
Grand Muse! Weave for us your natural song
the one of your birth and your never ending life!
Our lady who feeds us from thine own hands
who frees us from burden and helps us through strife.
Blessed be O Ceredwen! My Mother Earth and Lady Moon.
Thee whom which I owe my life
and chant forward thy Witches Rune!
Crescent beauty, celestial tempest
Seducing being of milky light
Beltaine dreams fill the minds
The month of May brings lullybies
Savents cure and Alchemists change
while bards narrate the grand and strange
A burst of scorching cinders explode
light filtering through the darkened abode
thumps of impish music plays
to celebrate the end of winter days.
faeries fly and pagans dance
around yonder bon fire prance
below the waning moon.
Drums of flame and strings of air
'tis what our blessed fingers play
on into the eternal of an oncoming day
below a hidden sun.
Grand Muse! Weave for us your natural song
the one of your birth and your never ending life!
Our lady who feeds us from thine own hands
who frees us from burden and helps us through strife.
Blessed be O Ceredwen! My Mother Earth and Lady Moon.
Thee whom which I owe my life
and chant forward thy Witches Rune!
Crescent beauty, celestial tempest
Seducing being of milky light
Beltaine dreams fill the minds
The month of May brings lullybies
Savents cure and Alchemists change
while bards narrate the grand and strange
A burst of scorching cinders explode
light filtering through the darkened abode
thumps of impish music plays
to celebrate the end of winter days.
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