As you fall asleep tonight, do not take this inhalation for granted. Honor her like a royal guest. Make a spacious tent of your flesh, for She who scattered the galaxies and harvested all their clustered stars has come to dwell in the vineyard of your body. She will pour the Milky Way down your backbone, anointing you with spikenard from her fathomless jar of whimsy. Let each expiration guide you to a mirror of moonlight. The key is silence. Step through. Follow her rainbow into the void where wings of astonishment will carry you from death to death. Fathom the sap. A scent of blossoms from the arbor under your ribs will guide you home, heart widened by a memory of stillness. Let her lure you down green corridors and pull you into the seed. If you won’t become hollow, how can you be filled with the music of Imbolc? by Fred LaMott photography Hiseo Kanno
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Yana Castle
Mentor for women, Hypnotherapist, Author, Adventurer, Researcher, Dreamer, Healer, Buddhist, Feminist, Folklorist, Dancer in liminal spaces, Leopard lover. Archives
October 2024
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