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Holidays >> Beltaine
pumpkin flowers, summer kisses, kisses and hugs, ritual room

The Garden of Desire

Author: Robin Woodsong
Connections Journal

It is Mabon. I walk about my garden in the cool of the evening. The leaves of the trees show hints of the coming fall. The harvest should be ripe, but disappointingly, there is little here to celebrate. My pumpkins should be covering the ground in their abundant blaze of orange beauty. I see only a few shriveled pumpkin flowers whose promise was never fulfilled. It's too late now. The birds have made off with the meager harvest of strawberries. The corn has an infestation of worms. I dig up a carrot, it is shrunken, soft and limp. Even Summer's tomatoes are few and small. Last year we were overflowing with pumpkins, tomatoes, corn, cucumbers, green peppers and all the other gifts of the earth. I think back to Beltaine when we planted and wonder...

Silver Oak Coven gather on a beautiful Beltaine evening. Summer and I are HPS and HP for the evening. For the first time our circle would include a Great Rite. We start ritual and as our coven drums and raises energy, Summer and I retire to a bedroom adjoining the ritual room to celebrate the God and Goddess.

My love and I exchange the fivefold kiss. We had waited for this evening for weeks. Believing that anticipation was the best spice, we had delayed our normal indulgence to bring our desire to its height. Aware of the drums, and the circle awaiting our return, we turned to each other with intent and focus. Unfortunately, despite lengthy and erotic attentions by the Goddess incarnate, the flag will not go up the pole. The soldier will not stand at attention. The ..., well, never mind, you get the idea. My little friend remains shrunken, soft and limp, although appreciative. I had never had 10 people in another room awaiting my performance and the tension did not allow me to rise to the occasion.

Summer kisses and hugs me, and we return to the circle, not mentioning that anything was amiss.

The next morning the coven gathers and we begin to plant our garden. I think briefly about ancient Pagan beliefs that as performs the High Priest so goes the crops, but dismiss this as superstition. Through the warm spring day we roto-till and hoe, our bodies gain a soft sheen of sweat that drips into the waiting earth. Lovingly we transplant seedlings started months ago in the greenhouse into the neat rows of earth.

With delight we watch as our garden comes alive. A few weeks later, while we were out of town, a storm comes up. On our return, the neighbors tell of incredible hail; we are appalled at the battered leaves and stems.

We start over from greenhouse seedlings, but we have lost two irrecoverable months of growing time. Summer tenderly watches while I travel in Europe.

I return – I anxiously tour our garden. Things are not as they should be. Despite mounds of fertilizer and generous waterings my pumpkins seem pale and listless. There seems to be a lack of energy, of direction. The garden reminds me of a pale, gaunt teenager I once met, who spent his life smoking pot and watching MTV. There is life, but not much more.

Unable to find a solution, I watch and hope for a quickening of spirit in our garden, but none is forthcoming. I tour a friend's garden in envious wonder. It seems every plant, every seed has produced a cornucopia of bounty. Perky tomatoes shout with color, mysterious pumpkins lurk beneath their covering of foliage. Corn stalks, bursting with plump ears, tower with majestic beauty over their domain. Unkind thoughts towards my friend's success are quickly suppressed.

There is a hint of chill in the air as I sit in my sad little garden, dreaming of salads unmade, of pumpkins uncarved, of salsas uncreated and thank the Gods for another damn learning experience. I am not quite sure of the lesson, but I can guarantee that there will be a blanket spread out in the middle of our garden in the deep of the night next Beltaine. We will celebrate the union of the God and Goddess without the distraction of an awaiting coven and bless the land and each other. Superstition? Maybe, but it sure is fun.

Suggested Pdf Resources

The Secret Of Desire - World Outreach Ministries
The secret is that your heart and mind function much like the soil in a garden. Whatever “seeds” you plant there will begin an immediate process of germinating ,.
The Alchemical Garden of Desire - Janet Laurence
How can we speak of the being of plants, of Dickinson's. “transport” or “suspense” of flowers? Laurence's “al- chemical desire” is not so much human desire, ...
The Gardens of Desire - SUNY Press
calendar” to discover evidence of the protean symbiosis between neurotic. 21 chapter one. The Kiss of Death: Desire in the Garden of Good and Evil.
The Botany of Desire - PBS
The Botany of Desire: A Plant's-Eye View of the World by Michael Pollan ... garden. One day while he planted potatoes and bees collected nectar from nearby ...
The botany of desire - Michael Pollan
Pollan, Michael. The botany of desire : a plant's-eye view of the world / Michael Pollan. p.

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Suggested Web Resources

Garden of Desire
Welcome to Garden of Desire Collection. Our exclusive online silver jewellery gallery offers uniquely handcrafted silver jewellery that are ideal gifts for your.
Garden of Desire - Jewellery Designs - Facebook
Garden of Desire - Jewellery Designs, Siem Reap, Siemreab-Otdar Meanchey, Cambodia. 589 likes · 7 talking about this · 34 were here. We are located at...
Garden of Desires: The Evolution of Women's Sexual Fantasies
Buy Garden of Desires: The Evolution of Women's Sexual Fantasies (Black Lace) by Emily Dubberley (ISBN: 9780352347688) from Amazon's Book Store.
In the Garden of Desire: The Intimate World of Women's Sexual
In the Garden of Desire has 5 ratings and 1 review. Alison said: Helped me to understand how the dominant culture, family values/behavior, etc. influence...
Private Thoughts: Exploring the Power of Women's Sexual Fantasies
In this groundbreaking and provocative book, originally published as In the Garden of Desire, renowned sex therapist Wendy Maltz and journalist Suzie Boss  ...