FULL MOON RITUAL July 2002

   A while back we had a FMR in a community garden to plant seeds. Now it looks like a good time to return to our gardens.    The setting is a community garden in DC, in sight of the National Cathedral, a Pagan place at heart, with its gargoyles and labyrinth. Plots have been carved out of a field near a small park. It backs up on the Archbold-Glover forest, and in fact deer often come out to feed on the gardens, when they can find something to eat.    Pomb is pulling a wagon laden with supplies from the sidewalk over the grass to the picnic table in the park. Her feet squoosh on the grass, almost brown before and now flooded by a sudden storm. She stumbles a little -- she seems to be losing her balance a lot lately. The moon glows full as the clouds retreat. It seems like things are stuck careening from one extreme to another -- flood, drought; anger, love; too much work or too little. She's been falling asleep at her desk and lying awake in her bed. It's time to restore the balance.

   Everyone who wants one can have a plot in this garden and grow what they love and need. Owl's garden might have the lavender her puppy loves to roll around in. Maybe Suz is growing searing yellow sunflowers. Jess might be growing hops. Red Deer might be nurturing a pine sapling. Nancy might be growing plump tomatoes for a coven feast. Under the moon magic tonight, there are dozens of plots, and yours too is growing, but might need some tending.    Pomb unpacks the items for the ritual and the feast: frozen chunks of watermelon, sweet lemon ice, thermoses of slushy margaritas, lime and strawberry, virgin and non, cold ice cream. And water -- very precious water. Dozens of cups are laid on the table, for all who need a cupful with which to water the garden.    She goes to her own plot, where earlier she has placed a bowl with every crystal in her house, to clear and cleanse and reinvigorate by the full moon and the bright sun and the healing rain. The four quadrants are in honor of the elements: yellow marigolds in the east, red zinnias in the south, blue petunias in the west, and green herbs in the north. A haze resolves above each quadrant, rising from the earth where the ancestors dwell and into the skies where the ancestors dwell -- yellow, red, blue, green, yellow, red, blue, green, yellow, red, blue, green -- forming a sphere around the garden, into the ground and above it. The sphere widens to include all the plots, and the park, and the colors dissipate into the mist, but their energies remain, enclosing and defining a sacred space.    People begin arriving, not talking much. Later we'll make merry and make peace. Now, we're troubled. Here in the sacred space we can be healed and be ourselves.    "Temperance, the Aquarian water carrier who adorns the tarot deck, neither Goddess nor God, but one then the other then the other, you who pour the water from vessel to vessel, you who works tirelessly to keep balance, who knows balance is not static but flowing from one to the other, one to the other, one to the other, spilling in abundance, taking care in dry times, mixing, blending, flowing, and through the mysterious exchange of energy making more energy, creating something new, you who know we cannot create anything new without splashing into one another, one and the other, one and the other. Bless us with water when we need it, bless us with balance in our movement, bless all we grow with the splash and spark and bloom of the new."    Goddess and God in one are with us now. Anyone who wants can take cups of water to feed whatever part of your garden that needs it. It could be a seed or an almost-ripe fruit or a new offshoot. It could be a weed you want to pull -- it's easier when the ground is wet. Tell us about your garden and your dreams if you choose. We're listening, the Goddess and God are listening, and the elements are listening...

   ...Two years ago Nym' was given a wonderful gift by a friend, a Hawthorn seedling that had sprung from a daughter tree of the magickal Hawthorn that grows beside Bridget's Well an ocean away, from sacred ground to her keeping it had gone. The past months as been awash with issues and ego, temper and tempests....for two years Nym' had kept her young seedling protected and cared for in a giant clay pot......now the time seemed to be at hand to let it grow and bloom as it wills. Blue lightening had streaked the sky the night before and the little tree seemed to be trying to reach beyond its bounds. But what were it's bounds, that was the unanswered question....Nym' knew it was time to let it's roots deepen and branches spread......Knowing this tree represent many areas of her life she planted the seeding beside the forest knowing she needed to trust in what was to be. Nym' looked to Pom and smiled in thanks...

   ...Cailean sits quietly basking in the moonlight; her heart filled with joy to be back amongst her brothers & sisters. She studiously avoids the gardening, leaving that for those with the green thumbs....her black thumb is infamous! Even to water a plant is to condemn it. Instead, she sits in the grass and smells the sweet fragrence, feels the texture beneath her. She takes a few deep breaths. And from the center of her being sends out waves of gratitude to the Divine. Windwalker will be well. Her childhood friend, her partner in crime, the anchor that helped her thru the tumultuous teenage years and beyond has trials to undergo yet, but success and survival can now be seen at the end. She also gives thanks for the women & men who have helped support her friend, her soulsister during this time with their love, their energy, their good wishes.    When she comes back to herself, Cailean looks around for Nym or Owl or Jess.. someone to plant the jade plant cutting she brought from California...just for Leyna -- it's probably the only thing WW ever envied of her, the wild blooming jade bush. In thanks, may it grow beautiful and fragrant in this community garden, since community has played such a big part in this...

   ...Deer had arrived early'ish and was amazed at both power and grace with which the Pom initiated their rite. Standing quietly as she called each quarter to light, Deer could have sworn that he mingled with each color - as well as with the final sphere - rising on the breeze and deepening into the earth himself.     When the time was right, he added two lives to his plot in the beautiful patchwork of vegetation. First in was a yearling of long-leaf pine, that stateliest of the genus which grows both needles and cones a foot or more in length. And, having watered him well, Deer added spoors from the beautiful fairy circle of Amanita currently gracing his own yard. "Mother, Father," he thought "here are the evergreen of immortality and the fungi of death and vision. Help us return to the balance."     Done with his own part of this working, Deer digs his toes into the warm, moist earth and watches for whatever will come next...

   ...Pomb can hear the murmuring talk and laughter from the group under the trees as she makes her way back up the slope to her garden. Some are dozing on the chairs and chaises, some are stretched out on blankets in the hot summer night, gazing at the moon. There is such a sense of peace now, but with activity humming under the surface -- just like the gardens, the growth is coming fast and wild as the plants make one last burst, seeing the harvests ahead.    Clouds are starting to form and swirl over the moon now, perhaps signaling another much needed rain to come. She holds two cups, one of lemon-balm and mint tea, and one of water. She sips the tea as she pours the water over the bee balm plants, with their wild-headed crimson flowers.    "Thank you for feeding the bees that keep all these gardens growing and changing."    She toasts the moon with the tea, saying: "Thank you for the spell that came to me in a dream. I can't wait to see how it all comes out."    "Thank you, Temperance, Aquarian god and goddess. Go if you must, stay if you will."    The clouds are thicker now, and in them colors swirl, mix, and dissipate, into the earth and into the sky. The elements are back within their realms, yet still with us. The sphere of safety and magic that enclosed us has drifted off with the wind and rain, but will always be with us in that wind and rain.