A Prayer to Baba Yaga, the Great-Grandmother of European Magic. {poetry}
{source}
Oh, great-grandmother Baba Yaga, we call to you in this time of upheaval
We pray to you, progenitor of the old European ways
We acknowledge your wisdom, and call for your return to power
We see what was done to you, how you were maligned and how your subjugation was the beginning of the modern war against indigenous wisdom
We pray for you, and lift our voices together, across the globe
We long for awakening and the return to harmony with the earth you once embodied
We speak of the Mother Wound
What was done to you is the Grandmother Wound
Your hands, wizened and crooked, once held all your grandchildren with care and reverence
When they ripped you from us, they ripped from us the tender, loving way a grandmother cares for her grandchildren and holds them in her wisdom and serenity
When they began the subjugation and colonization of your grandmotherly wisdom, they began to separate the hearts of our children from their greatest teachers — their elders
We see you for who you are, compassionate, yet firm
Not the scary old woman in the forest they made of you
But the origin of tender love mixed with wisdom, and the playful indulgence allowed only by one who has seen her own children grown, and knows the children and grandchildren will turn out just fine
We see the way you have watched over us, even though we have forgotten the truth of you
You watched over us and loved us even when they made us call you Witch, and gave you a big, ugly nose
You forgave us, and continue to forgive us, as we tell stories of you designed to frighten the little children you once welcomed with abandon to your hut
Not to eat them, but to teach them and protect them
We acknowledge that you are the root of our magic
It is you who walked in harmony with the earth before they taught us to make war upon the land
It is you who healed with the innate medicine of the plants before we were made to believe they were useless weeds with no value, needing to be expunged from the soil the way they expunged our soulful connection with the earth
We ask for you to awaken in us the old ways
The old knowledge
The old power
We see the beauty in your many, many years, and wish to learn from every line on your face, every line in your heart
We call to you, oh great-grandmother, who once ruled over an entire continent through the hearts and minds of herb-women
We ask you to help us reclaim and reconnect with the old powers and wisdoms you once stewarded
For we know that ancient knowledge belongs to no one
But instead belongs to all
We ask of you, oh great-grandmother, to help us find what was forcefully and violently taken from us
We ask for your help connecting to the power we know is there but have forgotten how to harness
We ask for your help in knowing how to use that power, our birthright, once stolen
We ask for your help in returning this power to us
We beseech you to connect to our hearts and minds and souls and help us connect to the source of all that is
We pray for the world to awaken to your true nature and see the truth of what was done to you
Done to all of us
For you were the beginning
You were the first subjugation of our modern culture
Made small by the great big church who sought only to make powerful women shrink
And teach them to worship only small men they held up as great
We pray to you and for you, oh great-grandmother
We pray for the healing of the Grandmother Wound
We have been disconnected from our birthright for countless generations
Back and back and back and back and back
So far back we have forgotten who we are
Just as we have fogotten who you are
But now we are remembering
And we pray to you and for you, oh great-grandmother of our heart
Make our power your power, and help us remember who we are as women, mothers, and grandmothers.
***
Lillyth Quillan has been a rebel as far back as she can remember, starting at age five when she used to argue church doctrine with the adults who tried to ram it down the unquestioning throats of children. Like her namesake, she makes her own way in the world, heedless of what the patriarchy says. She loves Baba Yaga, Lilith, nighttime, snakes, and swears a whole lot. She is the honored caretaker of a beautiful red corn snake named, you guessed it, Rebel.
***
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