MOONCYCLE CEREMONIES
FULL MOON IN CAPRICORN
Sat 22nd June 2 A.M GMT
Union, Completion, The Embodied Manifestation of the Magikalchild,
The Alchemical Wedding, Tribal Power, Community & Unity.
Dark Side of the Moon
Deception, Fragmentation, The Shattered Vision, Unbalanced Dark Fascistic Tendencies, Enabling & Manifestation of a Dark Bundle.
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Insights
With this full moon in capricorn, occurring at the same time as summer solstice in cancer, this heralds to be an extremely powerful full moon of opposites, in either union or disruption.
The magikal work that we generated at the new moon in gemini will now resolve into the full embodiment of the Magikalchild. If the work has been done correctly over the past 2 weeks, to resolve and face any imbalances within the psyche, then a great union of opposites will occur, and blossom into the Alchemical Fusion of the Magikalchild.
If, however, denial has won the day and control and manipulative lies have won out, then be prepared for a rude awaking around the time of this full moon. Bringing,instead of union, an even deeper schism, and a dark bundle will be formulated in the unconscious, that could bear its blackened fruits for possibly many years to come.
I would highly recommend that before any spell work is done on the Full Moon, if you need to in any way make amends to any of the people within your close circle, you should do so and in turn try your best to reconcile any, and all differences, if at all possible. Then realign into a united vision and focus on the future with them.
Find a quiet and private space out in nature, preferably, whatever you would consider to be a sacred site, or place. Then make an Invocation to our Lord & Lady, God & Goddess and enter full communion with them, through either, song, dance, sex , love etc, any form of sensual thanksgiving.
Below is a possible suggestion, utilizing the power of poetic trance and evocative spell casting.
Capricorn is depicted as a goat or sea-goat and is the sign in which the Moon sits on this full moon. In Greek Mythology he is the God Pan, who rules over forests and woodlands, flocks and shepherds. He is the Lord and protector of nature's secret inner garden.
Pan was placed in the sky by Zeus in gratitude for coming to the gods rescue on several occasions. During the war with the Titans, Pan helped scare them away by blowing his conch shell. Later, he warned the gods that Typhon, a monster sent by Gaia to fight them, was approaching whom he suggested that the gods disguise themselves as animals until the danger passed. Pan eluded the monster himself by jumping into the ocean and turning the lower part of his body into that of a fish.
Zeus eventually was able to strike down the Typhon with his thunderbolts and in gratitude to Pan, now part goat, part fish, placed him into the night sky as the constellation Capricornus.
Find a secluded place in nature, make any simple offering to the earth herself and then when ready incant the two poems below and enter into communion with both Pan and the Divine Goddess in deep recognition that it is you who are their Magikalchild and emissary upon this earth.
Hymn to Pan
By John Keats (1795–1821}
O THOU, whose mighty palace roof doth hang
From jagged trunks, and overshadoweth
Eternal whispers, glooms, the birth, life, death
Of unseen flowers in heavy peacefulness;
Who lov’st to see the hamadryads dress
Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken;
And through whole solemn hours dost sit, and hearken
The dreary melody of bedded reeds--
In desolate places, where dank moisture breeds
The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth;
Bethinking thee, how melancholy loth
Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx—do thou now,
By thy love’s milky brow!
By all the trembling mazes that she ran,
Hear us, great Pan!
O thou, for whose soul-soothing quiet, turtles
Passion their voices cooingly ’mong myrtles,
What time thou wanderest at eventide
Through sunny meadows, that outskirt the side
Of thine enmossed realms: O thou, to whom
Broad leaved fig trees even now foredoom
Their ripen’d fruitage; yellow girted bees
Their golden honeycombs; our village leas
Their fairest-blossom’d beans and poppied corn;
The chuckling linnet its five young unborn,
To sing for thee; low creeping strawberries
Their summer coolness; pent up butterflies
Their freckled wings; yea, the fresh budding year
All its completions—be quickly near,
By every wind that nods the mountain pine,
O forester divine!
Thou, to whom every fawn and satyr flies
For willing service; whether to surprise
The squatted hare while in half sleeping fit;
Or upward ragged precipices flit
To save poor lambkins from the eagle’s maw;
Or by mysterious enticement draw
Bewildered shepherds to their path again;
Or to tread breathless round the frothy main
And gather up all fancifullest shells
For thee to tumble into Naiads’ cells,
And, being hidden, laugh at their out-peeping;
Or to delight thee with fantastic leaping,
The while they pelt each other on the crown
With silvery oak apples, and fir cones brown--
By all the echoes that about thee ring,
Hear us, O satyr king!
O Hearkener to the loud clapping shears,
While ever and anon to his shorn peers
A ram goes bleating: Winder of the horn,
When snouted wild-boars routing tender corn
Anger our huntsman: Breather round our farms,
To keep off mildews, and all weather harms:
Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds,
That come a swooning over hollow grounds,
And wither drearily on barren moors:
Dread opener of the mysterious doors
Leading to universal knowledge—see,
Great son of Dryope,
The many that are come to pay their vows
With leaves about their brows!
Be still the unimaginable lodge
For solitary thinkings; such as dodge
Conception to the very bourne of heaven,
Then leave the naked brain: be still the leaven,
That spreading in this dull and clodded earth
Gives it a touch ethereal—a new birth:
Be still a symbol of immensity;
A firmament reflected in a sea;
An element filling the space between;
An unknown—but no more: we humbly screen
With uplift hands our foreheads, lowly bending,
And giving out a shout most heaven-rending,
Conjure thee to receive our humble Pæan,
Upon thy Mount Lycean!
Oh Great God Pan
Oh Great God Pan
Oh Great God Pan
The White Goddess
by Robert Graves
All saints revile her, and all sober men
Ruled by the God Apollo’s golden mean –
In scorn of which we sailed to find her
In distant regions likeliest to hold her
Whom we desired above all things to know,
Sister of the mirage and echo.
It was a virtue not to stay,
To go our headstrong and heroic way
Seeking her out at the volcano’s head,
Among pack ice, or where the track had faded
Beyond the cavern of the seven sleepers;
Whose broad high brow was white as any leper’s,
Whose eyes were blue, with rowan-berry lips,
With hair curled honey-coloured to white hips.
The sap of Spring in the young wood a-stir
Will celebrate with green the Mother,
and every song-bird shout awhile for her;
But we are gifted, even in November
Rawest of seasons, with so huge a sense
Of her nakedly worn magnificence
We forget cruelty and past betrayal,
Heedless of where the next bright bolt may fall.
When She rides in on the magical summer breeze enter communion with her divine presence and through an act of love, give forth your thanksgiving, duty and veneration.
BLESSINGS FROM THE HOUSE OF SHAMAGIKA
WORDZ; Y.ZSIGO
ART; ADAM INDIGO