• Michaela

Divine Feminine, 1 of 3

I am the crone

The creatrix whose impulse is rooted

In the ancient, in the archaic, in antiquity;

In the wrinkled and aggregate human soul.

And my life is spent in shucking husks

Until I reach the self unabashed, shameless,

Without restraint and eldest,

Tapping out my story with bare feet and knobbly bones.

I am Muireartach kindred, black and blue and battleready,

Have combed knowledge from life's storms besetting

Learnt my lesson from Grandma Turtle

And through the wise woman I am

Understand the mother.


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I have heard that there are people Who manage the motions of their lives Without the days when it hurts To choose and also to be still And that in their stillness they do not tremble And their throats

Evolving Consciousness

You killed the me I would have been I took the hurt like water takes stones Whether pebbles or boulders they all sank Left their ripples fading, but sank And I ran like a river Singing and sparkling s

World on Fire

Beauty. Fire looming and smoke pluming and all Isee is beauty Through metal eyes that cannot cry and I make myself a stone Skipped across the creek sunk in its bed, too weak To douse, and the wind pic

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