(Source: browndresswithwhitedots)
(Source: v-am-pir, via modernhepburn)
“When they ask to see your gods,
Your book of prayers,
Show them lines drawn delicately
With veins on the underside of a bird’s wing.
Tell them you believe in giant sycamores,
Mottled and stark against a winter sky.
And in night’s so frozen
Stars crack open,
Spilling streams of molten ice to Earth.
And tell them how you drank
The holy wine of honeysuckle
On a warm spring day.
And of the softness of your mother,
Who never taught you death was life’s reward;
But who believed in the earth,
And the sun,
And in a million, million light years of being.”~ J.L. Stanley, ”Catechism for a Witch’s Child”
(Photo by Jarosław Datta)
(via theagnosticpagan)
(via never-ending-journey)
