The editors and I had such a fun time putting together the playlist for last issue, that we decided to make a second one. The mix of music is rather eclectic, but maybe one or two songs will inspire you to contribute to Issue 4: Seasons.  Our official themes are Eostre, Persephone and Corn Mother, and the deadline is March 27th.  

We hope you enjoy! 

If you follow us on twitter you might have heard a hint about this exciting change to Cauldron Anthology.  Today we are officially changing out essay category to Non-Fiction.
As of today we will accept creative 3rd person Non-Fiction, short memoirs, flash essays and book reviews. The word limit is up to 2000.  

We are all very excited about these new changes, and we hope that this encourages you to submit to us. Just as a reminder the themes for Issue 4 are Eostre, Persephone and Corn Mother, and we close submissions on March 27th. 

​Corn Mother is a powerful symbol of feminism because she represents one of the most underappreciated jobs of a mother: her sacrifice. Details on the various versions of her story have been covered by previous posts, but the part that stands out to me is that despite being branded a witch by her own community and family, Corn Mother continues to love them and sacrifice of herself for their good. When I think of heroes, this is the type of story I think of: one in which the heroine is betrayed by her own people, but instead of seeking revenge, she blesses them and gives of her final breathes to make their lives better.
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This is important to me because I have a mother who sacrificed a lot to raise me and my siblings, and she deserves to be thanked more than I will ever have the chance to. So in my mind, Corn Mother is the perfect symbol for the undying love of the mother, whose love is so great it brings back the corn anew each harvest. Corn Mother is here to remind us that our mothers are looking out for us and deserve our thanks and our blessings because they have sacrificed more than many of us can ever imagine. And if/when we become mothers, I hope we can do their memories justice.

Persephone, queen of the underworld. It’s a title that sounds great on the surface, but then you peel back the layers of the story to find she was abducted by Hades, that she left behind a grieving mother determined to retrieve her by whatever means she could.
Later in the story it’s found that she is bound to Hades, either through his trickery or her own intent, and thus, she can’t ever fully escape.

I’ve always considered this story to be one of symbiosis: how Persephone and her mother Demeter are separated for half the year, how the seasons were created in Demeter’s grief. How Hades demanded Persephone to be in the Underworld, permitting her to leave if she had abided by a rule she didn’t know existed.
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With poetry, I want to see beyond harvesting and autumn. Show me symbiotic relationships: show me gut-wrenching grief that shapes the world around a character; show me the closeness of two people familial or otherwise. Show me trickery, a strong character who makes their own decisions, plays by their own rules.

Persephone was the woman held captive in the underworld, forced by Hades to become his bride. She was the face of abused ladies who never had a choice, who cannot break free and were forced to call their cage a home, only in her case, she became queen of the dead and damaged.

She is also the goddess of spring, of rebirth--a far cry from the image she became known for. In her return lie resurrection for the barren earth and in her departure, the rest of everything fertile and in bloom.

Essentially, Persephone is a paradox, reigning in both death and life, always pacing at the edge. There is something so familiar, so comforting about learning this apparent duality to her being. Are we not all paradoxes ourselves?

For Issue 4, I want you to find answers of your own to this question. Show me the two sides of who you are. Tell me about how you survive, how you thrive, how you are both darkness and light wedged together in this earthly body. Go beyond the barriers of genres; pierce through the mind of Persephone and tell me about the parallels of who she is to who you are. Give me truth rooted on mythology. Tell me about her secrets by telling me yours. In the midst of your own chaos, your own underworld, rise and conquer. May your reign, your mystical words bring these bleak spaces, these blank pages back to life.

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I don’t know about you, but Spring is my favourite time of the year. I love the colours, the smells, the air, and the hopefulness it conveys.

Eostre, the Germanic goddess of spring and dawn, is one of the most well known symbols of the season and is known by many names: Eastre, Ostara, but most now know her as Easter.
Easter is a holiday we generally associate with Christianity; however, its origins can be traced to the Anglo-Saxon Pagan festival held in Eostremonath (or April), which was held in Eostre’s honour. Eostre would bring with her the migratory birds and the soft winds, she would awaken the trees and flowers from their slumber, and she would encourage the chickens to begin laying their golden protein-rich eggs by comforting them with longer days and warmer light. Today, we honour her with our chocolate eggs, floral garlands, and rabbit symbology. While our traditions have changed over the years, the one constant is our celebration of the new life Spring gifts us.

For this issue, I will be looking for tales that are fresh, hopeful, and bright. I want to read stories that make me want to celebrate life in all its glorious colours.

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Thus far the themes of Cauldron Anthology have been a little on the violent side. From valkyries to sphinxes to Izanami, the women in the stories have been men-eaters and death goddesses. In Issue 4 I wanted to take a small break from that and draw inspiration from other places. Afterall femininity and womanhood have many faces, and there’s no one way to be a woman. My thoughts led me to thinking of the seasons and the goddesses that watch over the different times of the year, and thus I decided to bring Eostre to the table when my editors and I were discussing the new themes.
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Eostre is the Germanic goddess of spring, and she is celebrated during the month of the Spring Equinox.  For me Eostre brings up memories of gardens and the starting of vegetables in the early months of the year, the goddess inspires me to think of new beginnings and different paths of life. How does she inspire you?

​In Issue 4 of Cauldron Anthology we’d love to see more art submissions. What does spring look like where you live? How does the thought of new beginnings inspire you?
We would also love to see some short essays in this issue. How does Eostre compare to other spring goddesses?
There are so many unique perspectives that can be explored in this theme and we can’t wait to see your submissions.  

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​They think it’s like plucked barge strings
heaving gorges,
though sound lands nowhere.
Blood,
poking through poultry leather.
All that is left is calyx
to burn in the sun
and take its lazy drift
down the Styx,
or Milky Way.

​He has an MA in Theatre (Drama Therapy) from Kansas State University. His poems have been featured by Whisper and the Roar, Paragon Journal, Lycan Valley Press, Aphelion, Poets & War, and Fourth & Sycamore. He works for a non-profit that serves survivors of domestic and sexual violence.

Social media links:
https://twitter.com/TimothyTarkelly