Sleep Spells: Poems for Dreaming

Updated: May 4, 2021

This week, WitchSchool will be sharing 7 sleep spells over 7 days. These sleep spells were written and presented by our alumna Diane Perazzo, and are meant to be read or listened to before bed.

Please take this week to challenge yourself to foster deeper connections between your dreams and the mythic voices of our beautiful earth.

About The Author

Sleep Spells for Dreaming is a selection of poems wonderfully created by WitchSchool's alumna, Diane Perazzo.

As WitchSchool students move through our program and graduate, we encourage them to grow and build their own enterprises, while amplifying their voice and their appreciation of the divine feminine.

Diane Perazzo, a WitchSchool alumna from our very first cohort, is an exceptional woman, who has grown to amplify herself through her evocative and beautiful words, displaying her creations on her website:

We now would like to introduce you to her work, through 'Sleep Spells: Poems for Dreaming.'

We hope you find growth and discovery through these poems, and please share with us in the comment section below what discoveries you find through your dreams this coming week.


"By air and sky and deep blue mountain lake,

By sturdiness of soil and heat of passion’s flame.

By rough bark and strong trunk,

Deep roots and ever-widening branches.

By the wind and by the rain.

Shrug off your heavy cloak my darling,

Shake off the weight of your days.

Let go of your burden, slip out of your fear,

Release your inhibitions and go deep and deeper

Until dropped and open, you step into this magical sphere.


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit:

Incantation for the Planthroposcene

"Cherish the circle song of the green and growing ones

and let their rhythm re-entrance your dreaming.

Remember it was they who taught you

to smell and to taste

and to see the beauty in colour and form.

Understand, it was the photosynthetic ones

who first terraformed this world.

They were the ones who arranged and rearranged

the elements of air and fire and water and earth;

and still they weave their verdant notes together

in a never-ending spiraled symphony of

beginnings in endings and endings in beginnings.


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit:

Old Nettle Woman

"Old Nettle Woman finds me.

She comes to me in my deepest sleep.

She fills me with chlorophyll dreaming.

She whispers strength that flows from her fibrous roots,

and smiles the truth in the sting of her tiny needles.

Old Nettle Woman leads me to the creek side.

Her skirts rustle softly as she walks,

a delicate breeze in dark green leaves.

She settles on the bank beside me.

Her slender hands pull her prickly shawl closer,

and she gazes green on flowing water.


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit:

Dreaming with Anima Mundi

"I mark my dreams in times like these while bush fires rage across the world and rivers break their banks at home

In sleep I fly with flocks of crows and run with wolves across great plains I swim upstream with silver salmon and turn the soil with worms


Dream maker, wind howler My feathers fly in the eye of the storm and bits of bricks and mortar sail around me


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit:

Hylde-mođer (Elder Mother)

"Ellærn, eller, eldre

Eldrun, hyldor, hylanntree

Hylde-mođer you shall be.


My tender silver reaching roots in winter cradle death. Moulding, mourning, moving back.


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit:

Mycelium and Memory

"And so I drop in deepest winter dreaming. Composing and decomposing, drifting under over and within.

Descending into earth, to drink its damp offering and wander along threads of mycelium and memory.


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit:

Goldenrod Grandmother

"Solidago sway and singof summer’s ending.Life transcending.Gilded golden on the wing.

It seems like only yesterday the path to her stone cottage was worn from the footsteps of the villagers. During the day they came for her soothing elderberry syrups and her clover and linden teas. And when the shadows lengthened and curled around behind the evergreens, they would slip along the path for rose petal and hawthorn tinctures to mend the cracks in their broken hearts and agate amulets scripted with sigils to banish their fears.


To read and listen to the poem in its entirety, please visit: