The Heart of the Goddess is Calling

When I first began my journey into the shamanic realms of the Celtic otherworld, I saw myself on a green hill, being burned alive at the stake for being a pagan priestess. A shaman woman. The last image I saw before the flames overtook me was a Churchman, smiling with satisfaction. As I died, my spirit floated up into a circle of 9 priestesses wearing silvery white gowns. A pitcher of moonlight was poured over me like a…