Poetry

Spring becomes Summer. Wood becomes Fire. We are in the window of this shift. Right now. In Nature, in the personal, in the Global. We open ourselves to this Truth; without much choice, and yes, most certainly with gripping fists, and fearful eyes that dart the other way. Yet here we are. This tilt...

A thunder clap rumbles, Like the roar of a beast, The reminder of wildness. Wildness is endangered, Especially a wildness of women. Gripping to tame something inherently untamable. ~~~ Sublime. A feeling that melts away any unnecessary surface chatter. A quiver that shakes you to your core. An awakening to being something more than just...

The lush Earth tilts to meet the recharge of the Light of the Circle. There is an ease. An ease in letting go. A sweet flow of the dance that helps me to drop into rhythm with the Earth. The drum of the pulsing current. One that sings me into...

The call of the cardinal, sharp red, whose morning song fills the air. The smell of Birth in the soil and bursts of the trees’ first buds, Hanging like thick perfume. The warmer-tinged breeze than that of winter; Blowing in hope, easeful joy. It peels back thick clouds from the sun, Allowing the...

It’s still a shift; An utmost sacred one. One where Mother Earth tilts a new way, conducting new shadows of the Sun. It’s still a shift. I feel it in my bones. In my heart. In the tone of my desire. Im searching for the familiarity, still. Looking around the corner...

Perhaps the words of caution fill your head. The words that tell you to, “be careful,” Words that temp you with, "this world is too scary." And plant seeds of doubt, that you hold to. But you, my dear, are here for a purpose. We all are. We are here to...

The Sun catches the wingtip of the butterfly; Blazing; Fiery. A welcome to the new Season; A beckoning into Joy. The freedom of bursting from seed: From cocoon into flight. Soaring on wings that lead to purpose. The nectar of Joy, like that of a flower, Spills sweetly, abundantly, from the Heart. Joyfulness. Bliss. Easeful being; That is...

The snowflakes fell in slow motion in the cloudy morning air. Not moving in any direction in particular. But each making their way down from above, Eventually descending upon the earth. There was no rush to land. It was all theirs now: the earth, time, the season. No longer fighting for...

I have lived over 8,000 Sunsets, and have not seen nearly enough of them. The golden Sun has kissed beneath the black clouds, continuing to set. I wait patiently for the Sun to peak out of the edge of the clouds, making an upside-down sunrise. Rain greets the Earth...