Craft in a Nutshell

Star light, Moon bright, which Gods should I call tonight?
Mother, daughter, holy ghost?
She from deep forests,
He of the coast?
     (The Cornish Wreckers' thunder God, not He who binds the    
      restless wave and saves us from the watery grave.)
Or maybe She of whiskers and fur;
Cats are made to resemble Her.
There is no one god, either he or she;
Religion is a recipe.
Some go together, a tasty dish,
Some are as welcome as three-day fish.
Make sure your Gods are viable
Give them flowers, treat them well,
Respect them, honour them, when you're through
Ask not what more
You can do for your Gods
But what they will do for you.