Trust The Process of Change

Image: Alexandra Dvornikova 

Trust the process of change.

Sometimes a familiar thing needs to die

before an unfamiliar new sprout can grow.

Whether it is a big transition

or a wee, little one

fear is a normal emotion

on the path of transformation.

A wise friend once told me

that fear of the unknown

is excitement, holding its breath.

I remember this

when I am about to birth

new little things

or little big things.

And I remember that every mountain

has a path

and that the path itself

is as valuable

if not more so

than the mountaintop

because without it

you could not get to the very top to see the view.

The path seasons us

sometimes more

than the mind expansive eye opening

perspective

at the top.

When in doubt, remember

trust the process.

trust the journey.

trust the invisible and not so invisible

helpers

that assist us

across the rivers of change.

if that does not work

and all else fails

and you are scared

and feeling tiny

and know that you are about to birth

some kind of wonderful

just imagine that you are held

in the arms

of the great mother

the grandmother

the gentle forest mother bear spirit

of nourishing trust.

Words by The Wild Matryoshka

Sleeping In The Forest

Sleeping In The Forest.

I thought the earth remembered me, she 

took me back so tenderly, arranging 

her dark skirts, her pockets

full of lichens and seeds. I slept 

as never before, a stone 

on the riverbed, nothing 

between me and the white fire of the stars 

but my thoughts, and they floated 

light as moths among the branches 

of the perfect trees. All night 

I heard the small kingdoms breathing 

around me, the insects, and the birds

who do their work in the darkness. All night 

I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling 

with a luminous doom. By morning 

I had vanished at least a dozen times 

into something better.

-  Mary Oliver -

Nikki Giovanni - Badass

I was born in the congo
I walked to the fertile crescent and built
the sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad

I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile

I am a beautiful woman
I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat's meat
and a change of clothes

I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can't catch me
For a birthday present when he was three

I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother's day
My strength flows ever on
My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day

I turned myself into myself and was
jesus
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save

I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north

I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents

I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended
except by my permission

I mean . . . I . . . can fly
like a bird in the sky . . .

- Nikki Giovanni -

A Thousand Years of Healing

A thousand years of healing

From whence my hope, I cannot say,
Except it grows in the cells of my skin,
In my envelope of mysteries it hums.
In this sheath so akin to the surface of the earth
it whispers. Beneath
the wail and dissonance in the world,
hope’s song grows.
Until I know
that with this turning
we put a broken age to rest.
We who are alive at such a cusp
Now usher in
One thousand years of healing!

Winged ones and four leggeds,
Grasses and mountains and each tree,
All swimming creatures,
Even we, wary two leggeds
Hum, and call and create
The changing song. We remake
all our relations. We convert
our minds to the earth. In this turning time
we finally learn to chime and blend,
attune our voices; sing the vision
of the Great Magic we move within.
We begin
the new habit, getting up glad
for a thousand years of healing.

Susa Silvermarie

Joy

Joy like the spring feels
   as if she is untouchable
far away over the hill.
I know she's there,
   we want to meet again.
Her smile gives me hope.
   Allows me to take faint steps forward,
Another day passes,
     and she seems lost to me.
I hear her heartfelt voice calling me on
 over and over again.
She claims me back into the parts of me
that need quenching,
    like a slow warm Sunday walk
along the banks of the Dart
  No destination
Always home
   where I am meant to be
Spring returns once more
 and winter ebbs away

Kissing the Earth

An aspiration and intention setting for this coming first week of February 2020. 

Inshallah it may come to pass.

As it was

As it is

As it shall be

Lost Words Blessing for Imbolc

The Lost Words Blessing

Enter the wild with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you travel far from heather, crag and river
May you like the little fisher, set the stream alight with glitter
May you enter now as otter without falter into water

Look to the sky with care, my love
And speak the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you journey on past dying stars exploding
Like the gilded one in flight, leave your little gifts of light
And in the dead of night my darling, find the gleaming eye of starling
Like the little aviator, sing your heart to all dark matter

Walk through the world with care, my love
And sing the things you see
Let new names take and root and thrive and grow
And even as you stumble through machair sands eroding
Let the fern unfurl your grieving, let the heron still your breathing
Let the selkie swim you deeper, oh my little silver-seeker
Even as the hour grows bleaker, be the singer and the speaker
And in city and in forest, let the larks become your chorus
And when every hope is gone, let the raven call you home