By Wand and Cup, Pentacle and Sword,
O women, hearken unto my word!
You are My tribe of women, are you not?
Are you my Partheniae? Women who belong to themselves?
I thought so.
O My daughters—yes, I am your Mâ
I am the black stone that tumbled from the heavens—Kubaba—and fell near the sacred mountaintop
In Anatolia—the land of the Mothers
My deeds were sung by my priestesses—queens and warriors
Solid as the rock that forms my throne
Immovable as the mountain itself Continue reading