blog description

Old women talk about old things: history, myth, magic and their
checkered pasts, about what changes and what does not.

Friday, January 18, 2013

Crone Solstice





Outside the cold darkness gathers early
 Winter solstice brings the longest night
 Then ancient people would huddle
 Close together around the fire
 Partaking in sacred rituals to call back the Sun
 Seeking protection from a superstitious fear
 Warm days would not return
 The cold dark would only deepen
 Bringing death
Staring out the window at the gathering gloom I catch a fragmentary glimpse of an urban fox, a vague shape slipping through grey shadows. Suddenly to be outside breathing clear cold air feels like the only bearable option. The intensity of my desire startles me out of my drifting reverie and my feet are moving towards the door before the next breath comes and I am outside, free.
Teetering on the edge of the wooden deck I inhale sharply. In the sky appears a golden green spiral calling to all of Mother Earth's kindred spirits to unite and dance together.
In my mind's eye my feet are carrying me soaring over white drifts, ducking under low hanging branches, around the quiet sentinel trees, through the gate at the wild end of the garden. Then I know, I ken, that I have entered another level of perception… what is known in shamanic circles as non- ordinary reality…
Inside my heart opens
My inner eye perceives
Portals to rich adventures
Animal instincts react
With keen pleasure
Where shall we go from here?





1 comment:

  1. NJ--Many, many thanks for continuing with your glorious drawings and moving affirmations. Images drawn from the heart of Mother Earth!

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