Priestess: (Invocation) Goddess of Inspiration, Goddess of Creation, come to our aid, we entreat You! We are parched and bored, devoid of fantasy and prophecy, for we dwell in a waste land of machines that calculate, and statistics that diminish our souls. Restore to us the days of our innocent childhood!

Oracle: Far beyond the world of the cold mind and the stony heart, yet closer than the breath in a frosty dawn is Hy Brasil, the Many-Coloured Land of Heart's Desire! There is the Cauldron of Creation, guarded by three great stone circles, and beyond the circles is the sorrowful waste land of earth in which you dwell. There the lost soul, torn with doubt and fear, having turned away from the Mother, plays endless games of the mind. He adds one to one and two to two, yet never, calculate as he may, achieves infinity! For Infinity is beyond number and calculation and is as near the first as it is to the last. And the Voyager to the future in space and time ever returns, faery-bound, to his own starting point. Only when he calls to Deity for help can he be saved from his mind-formed prison.

Remove from My Cauldron of Creation the three magical drops of Inspiration, Originality and Imagination - and you are left with a poisonous residue of stale thought, soulless regulations and death-bringing orthodoxy. Return to the Matrix which is greater than the limited world about you! Travel far to achieve My Chalice, and endure with courage the ordeals which test your quality. Do not be led astray by false humility, which surrenders your birth-right of free choice to the commands of others. For even those travellers who have found the Grael are not able to share it with their fellows! For this is the Law, that each must achieve divine inspiration in solitude through service. Know that even I, Cerridwen, was not able to bestow the gifts of the Spirit upon My Divine Son. Rather did a mortal, such as yourselves, receive My gifts of the Spirit. And mark that the boy was given inspiration unexpectedly without seeking for it, during the course of his daily work! And he fled in terror, comprehending neither Me nor his great destiny.

In many lives, in many forms, the soul flees from My embrace, Who am the Universal Mother, She Who gives birth and death to all beings. In verity My Cauldron is both the womb and the tomb. For only through birth and death may the soul partake of My Grael and so receive the Elixir of Life.

Gain courage. Cherish humility. Be original: respect the originality of others. Use your imagination: yet know that all you visualise manifests in some sphere; so let your visions be true and noble. When you achieve My Grael you will find Hy Brasil all around you: in the room where you dream: in the bird-filled tree outside your open window: in the eyes of all who love you.

 

Back to Sybil, Oracles of the Goddess