And oh, to tend the quiet of winter , to tend the fire in my heart that so dim reminds me now: I’ve not gone out. To tend as well my precious hearth, my sacred home, as within so without, to ask, to sit in, what makes this space feel safe?
This week of mid-winter, this tide of momentum moves me into the axis turn of tonight. The quickening I have felt, have lived, the stirring, the forward momentum that of course this week, stopped then. Stillpoint within. Held me in the stillness amid me, the darkness. Lost in the dark, what is there to see?
What of my want weighs me, this weight the very thing that will tilt me now, will push me on? Come spring!
I love what I love, I own what I want. It hurts bad. I didn’t realize how much there was I didn’t want to see.
Ohhhhh bitchy mid-winter, oh dark Madonna, mean Magdalene Mama, oh sacred death face how I hate you, how I avoid you, how you own me when I do~
How I learn to love what I don’t….to love even that I don’t love, I learn dark mama to love you too
Awake all week, sleepless with quivers, with flat numbness I feel all the way to my teeth. Nightmares, demon dogs in tribal markings, stillpoint stopping point wicked week of dreams.
Forgive me for denying you, parts I have pushed away
Hear me all I long for and seek to honor, serve, and bring forth
Dark stars and what circles and escapes right out of and above my head
Forgive me, me Forgive me me I am still learning to love
Vision week of dark stirring moon. May I remember more than any other intent meant to grow: the wisdom of the earth, her good medicine…how it is the only true remedy for whatever ails me within. So to Feed This Lake, Out of Which All Will Grow
How much more me I am, more wild, when I have slowed down because I have made myself be outside, gotten out of me. I love what I love I am bliss and with lightness and tender heart roots of low dimmed light so soft, I nurture what this week I have seen
~In love with blessings to all~