Many suns ago, as the pale dawn of reason crept across the Pagan sky, man grew out of believing in the gods.....he has yet to grow out of disbelieving in them. He who splits the Goddess on an existence-nonexistence dichotomy will earn themselves only paradoxes, for the gods are not divided and neither are the lands of the Brother of Time.
Does a mind exist? Ask her and she will tell you yes, but seek her out, and she will elude you. She is in every place, and no place, and you will see her works in all places, but herself in none.
Existence was the second-born from the Mother's womb and contains neither the first-born nor the unborn. Show us your mind, and we will show you the gods! No matter that you can't, for we can't show you the gods. But come with us and the Goddess herself will be our love and the God will call the tune.
A brass penny for your reason! For logic is a closed ring, and the child doesn't validate the Mother, nor the dream the Dreamer. And what matter the wars of opposites to she who has fallen in love with a whirlwind, or to the lover of the arching rainbow?
But tell us of your Goddess, as you love her, and the gods that guide our works, and we will listen with wonder, for to do less would be arrogant. But we will do more; for the heart of man is aching for memories only half forgotten, and the Old Ones, only half unseen.
We will write the old myths as they were always written, and we will read them on the rocks and in the caves and in the deep of the greenwood's shade, and we will hear them in the rippling mountain streams and in the evening mists. We have no wish to create a new religion...for our religion is as old as the hills and older, and we have no wish to bring differences together. Differences are like different flowers in the meadow, and we are all one in the Mother.