Salve

I begin again, again.

I am baptised, I walk rain-slick streets as the shy moon peeps at me from every puddle. We both are full. I part the veil.

This night I cast illusions to the wind. I am reborn again, again. Tonight, the Goddess takes me and she is my breath, blood, belly, soul and bones. I am her, we are one. Tonight, I rejoice, I remember. I will tear the past asunder. I am the wilderness, I will not be tamed. I am the zero, beginning and the ending and I cannot be divided and I will not be reduced. I will break myself for no-one and I will not be broken. Those who burned me found themselves choking on ashes that filled their lungs as they watched me rise. Those who wronged me have seen the wrath of the black Moon Lilith. She who writhes and boils in my veins thirsting for her vengeance.

Dark sister. Weird sister, they whispered. She of the Otherworld, who commands all of her shadow, who knows the language of herbs and the songs of the trees. The rain comes when she calls and she dances skyclad with storms, and she offers herself as a sacrifice to the moon. She invokes the Old Gods and makes bones into jewels and she’ll steal your soul, if you look into her eyes.

And that I could, but I have no use for such a thing- all that I need, I already Am. 

Dark sister I Am. Weird sister. Ancient sister, Holy One. I make art of spells, weave dreams into words and I live between worlds where the silence is found in the stillness, where light seeps through cracks in reality. I hold space for the ones who will Know how to heal themselves, for I have suffered many lifetimes into my own Knowing and this has made a midwife of me. My words are a salve, for the ones who will decipher them. My frequency a key to many hidden gates. I forage for mysteries in the dark hidden places, to make light of them that I may scatter them about the world like breadcrumbs. Follow the trail if you will. Brave the labyrinth.

I walk these rain-slick streets this night, full with joy, like the moon. I Am the potential, the beginning of creation: the Fool, the zero and the All that Is.

I begin again, again. 

 

Salve
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art of trauma