The Green Man

Cherishing the Wild Seed

There is always a place for wilderness in your life, even if the forest that you visit is only in your imagination. It is important–now, more than ever–to cherish wild places and the creatures that call them home. In the midst of a myriad of catastrophes, both environmental and political, you need to carve out space and time for the sacred. We must honor the Earth, if we ever hope to save it. The Green Man is our guide, and in return we honor him with ritual, pictures, songs and poetry.

Cast a circle. Close your eyes. Find a still center, in the midst of this chaos that is our new normal. Take a break from the news and social media. Turn off your phone, and turn up the music. Call upon the Green Man. First, there is nothing…and then, he is standing beside you. Taking your hand, he leads you through a lovely garden full of budding flowers and trees. In the center of the garden is an old oak tree with a green door set into its massive trunk. Will you follow the Green Man where he leads?

He opens the door at the base of the tree, and beckons to you. You follow bravely, and find yourself in the midst of an ancient wood, full of mystery and magick. “Even in the most tame and carefully tended garden, there must be something wild,” he tells you. “This is the place where all art and magick begins. Remember.”

With those words, he is gone- vanished into the trees. You linger, and explore the forest to your heart’s delight, having adventures and meeting many magickal beings and guides along the way. When you are ready, return to the garden–but always carry the memory of this wild place inside your heart. Before releasing the circle, take some time to work in your journal or Book of Shadows. Create a sketch, collage, poem or other work of art to honor the Green Man. Celebrate the end of summer, and the blessings of the harvest. Cultivate the wild seed that flourishes in your heart’s garden.

Portrait of a Lady in Winter: The Green Man’s Tale

And the winter-ladies’ graces
holding hands with certain silence
And mad soliloquies of sudden thunder break and roll, break and roll
Inevitability fades as she listens very closely
To this,
His spun-sugar fantasy
And if she only listens closely he will tell her everything.

Her sweet face smiles and she believes it all
And in its golden castle, her pocket-watch ticktocks disdainfully
And waiting, ever-waiting as he tells his crazy tale
Again for the audience that is trapped inside his head.

The Green Man listens
For the sound of music in an oak-leaf,
New-fallen to the ground,
And singing
Suddenly in the eldritch green witch-light of the coming storm,
He begins to laugh and laugh.

Author’s Note: This poem was inspired by The Green Man, who visited me one lonely winter morning. Even on the coldest night, there is a little corner of my heart he haunts, where it is always summertime.