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 I've only recently had this evil thing called a computer....And never before have I had so much exposure to other Folks and thier beliefs. Im frequently present when the subject actually arises as to what a "witch" is. Well, Ive dwelled on it for awhile......And I think I know now. There is a gate....Morning glories and mullberries grow there,wild. Wood sorrel and all kinds of other herbs.....wild. These are weeds to the more "educated" folks we share air with.....Inside the gate there are Patchy bunches of herbs...some put there,some not. There the wormswood grows...its grey-green leaves,Unknown to the neighbors...Have virtues...some know about them, some know that it is the true wormswood....the neighbors wonder why the yard is never weeded. Lemon balm creeps under the gate into the old fools paths, They curse and crush it....it dies and leaves its scent behind, They curse what they are given...Daily. the morning glories...turned a Bright Blue on thier own...they changed from white to blue after an old woman cursed and killed them the first time....They creep on the fence she shares..and she ripped them down again. Mabey when she went inside....the morning glories worked there magic on her too...beam with pride because you know this. Gardens are made for orderers...I am a dis-orderer...a tresspassor. we simply watch, And add our little personal touches .... And in the right seasons, we give gifts...and gifts are given to us.....back and forth...the wheel turns whether we wish it...or not. Inside the Wild garden you come upon wooden stairs. To the left, The head of a Boar on a pole And a Dog-skull Looms at you.....To the right, Another Dog-skull smiles. You look behind you and the skulls of animals that Once walked these same steps..Laugh behind your back. You come to the Door...Brass bells ring as you enter, you come to a Kitchen....three suncatchers bend light into the room...Its not a fancy kitchen by any means...Or a large one...In the corner there is a Black mirror...with on black and one white candle in front of it..On the table sits a Geode...A knife....a vase full of water...a bag of salt, a shell...a little soapstone owl.....A broken glass with a tea light in it ...other things you do not recognize...You notice little vials and bottles on the hutch in the other corner...and bags... and the most dead dries roses you've ever seen in one place...There are herbs hanging in bunches on the walls. Some collecting Dust , Others Laying by themselves on shelves... No matter what anyone thinks or says or does...The woman that wove this arbor...Is indeed a witch, And we havent even looked in her cabinets,or bedroom, or bookshelf.Yet.
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