The Mandrake.

Hodie! Thank you to St. Expedite, oh most gracious advocate and glorious martyr!

Who steps upon the wings of the Devil calling “Cras Cras”.

For instead you hold up the palm branch of our Lord and proclaim

“HODIE”.

Today, today, today!

Thank you for swiftly resolving the troubles before me and blessings as well to all the Holy Allies who gather beneath your banner. May you intercede benevolently on our behalf before the Throne of the Almighty,

Always.

My Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on my soul. Spare us from the fires of Hell. Lead all souls to Heaven, especially those most in need of your mercy.

Praise to you oh most gracious Mother of God, Mother of the Word Incarnate. Bless us, now and always.

Amen.

🖼: Unknown painter from Palermo, Sicily, Italy; 19th Century. Housed in the Wellcome Library, London, England, UK.

***r

Everyone’s hanging out with Jup Jup today :P 💙🙏🏼💦✨🌿🧿
This was my station last night as I prepped for the amazing election selected for me by for this Jupiter day.
I took stones of various hues; of blue and orange and gold. I rub Green Sage between my hands, releasing the oils of the viridian sacrifice into a basin of water prayed over, touched by the lips of my Beloved.
I crush Hyssop and mix with pinches of dusts and powders in the belly of my palms, gathered around me from points of the Kingdom; expansion, empire, Thresholds, abundance, Prosperity, Sovereignty.
I burn Sandalwood.
I pray holy Psalms.
I take the stones and wax and flame and bathe them in blue water nourished by the sacrifices of my Green Familiars. Jupiter of my earth bleeding unto the altar for Him.
I intone Greek Vowels and Nomina Barbara until my toes curl with the vibrations upon my tongue and lips.
Until my head alights with holy fire.
I make a nest of moss and pine and oak. I pray my soil be enough to make a place for the blessings of the Great King of Clouds and Mountains and Lightning and Dew Drops.
I place the holy objects to rest in their beds for the night. Along with my faith like tear drops, trust learning to grow like kelp inside me.
And I love. And I believe.
And I pray for better days.
The morning comes.
I wake up with an itching in my heart. Head crackling. I make tea and coffee for the Ancestors. I ring Brass Bells. I intone His name as I have done a thousand times for the past year and a half. Until he drips like honey. Until he gushes like sweet spring water from my own tongue.
Until He lights up like a silver pearl inside of me.
I spend the day carving and polishing and bathing and suffumigating until my hands are stained blue. Until faith burns like a blazing bushel within me. Until the sides of my skull crack and bubble in realignment.
Until I remember,

I have always been held in the depth of my rooting. 🌿💦✨

A Healing Charm,

Praise the Moon, even in Her Waning.

For she is old then, and remembers what it was to love. 🌜🌚🌙