Fall in Love with Yourself

Fall in love with yourself again

That beauty that lies with the sun as it rises in perfect spring sky

Sitting within your own temple of divinity

Fall in love with your laughter

As the stream twirls the fallen leaf down toward the ocean

Like your breath in joy of life

Fall in love with your hope

Those delicate blossoms that hold such sweet fragrance

In wonder of surrender to soul

Fall in love with your fear

Eyes that watch from darkened glade of moss and bracken

Protector of your innocent being

Fall in love with being present to self

Restful shedding of season end and herald of new

Outgrown of what has passed behind

Fall in love with your love

Spirals capturing the light that ripples from freshwater pool

A mirror of perfect dance

Dusk ll

Dusk ll

Dusk.
That time of slowing pace as gentle light reaches its last breath of day
Falling in love with the earth through the passage of sun through sky
Gratitude for the inhalation of life with stillness and dance
Holding my shadows and colours in arms of tenderness and love
Prayers that stay even as the light seeps from the lands
A knowing that tomorrow I will fall in love with the earth once again

Don’t You Dare

Don’t you dare
Shine your light brightly across windswept moors as a welcome to weary travellers with feet heavy of burdens
Lest you outshine your neighbours who keep the storms at bay with heavy shutters made of thick wood to deafen the pleas of help
Don’t you dare
Run and laugh amongst the meadows of scented wildflowers whilst the sun dips it’s head to the eve in grace of surrender
When there are dishes to be washed and shelves dusted so as not to leave the scattered remnants of life untouched
Don’t you dare
Raise yourself to be seen and know of your own worth as the whale breaches from the depths in magnificent herald
As those flaws will be highlighted in the ascent like barnacles that crust and mar as blemishes upon otherwise perfect skin
Don’t you dare
Give yourself permission to be enough as you are in your cloak of many colours that swings around your hips
Hide your divine feminine behind that glossy paper as it dulls that sparkle from your eyes that see only perfectness of others
Don’t you dare
Listen to those whispers that call from deep inside that work their way to surface through broken glass and shedded tears
Let the crooked views of other’s minds bring shame to your own temple when it houses the gift of you that sits so perfectly
Within your own divinity

Dusk Pt 1

As the light fades and the remnants of the day settle into stillness, alive comes the last song of the bird, calling out those twilight creatures from slumber. In these moments we can feel the passing of time and the joy of change. Oneness with the earth herself.

Be your own medicine

Be your own medicine

Your spirit holds the secret to heal

Those whispers of intuition that settle in your body

Listen

No guru or sage can tell you

What is already burning inside

A wildfire of dreams

The embers that soften your edges

Warmth from your own hands that caress

A divinity of soul

Listen

A well of knowing sits within

You need only drink from this grace

This dance of sacred water

To know your own medicine which flows freely

With the blood of your ancestors

Through the bones of your own wisdom

Kali

Walk with Kali

Her blood pulsating in your veins

That fire in your eyes

Hips full of Shakti

Dancing upon the grave of yesterday’s tears

Pregnant with love and fury

Ready to birth promises

Of the sacred feminine

For tomorrow’s children

That rise through the burnt earth

As the flowers of hope

Migraine

I want to know

What trauma you are protecting me from

Is it so damn terrible

You need to cover it

With shards of glass

That operating table brightness

That blinds

Each thought

Stealing my days

A robber at my table of life

Blossom Speaks

Blossom speaks

Of longer days

A flurry of scent to close the eyes in deepening breath of stillness

Softening of deep earth with

The warmth of sun

Awakening the little seeds below as they draw their fingers up

Towards the light

Seeking with birthed tendrils to burst colour into the world

Once again

Hawk sings through the air

Graceful flight that dances on the edge of branch

And bough

Keen eyes forever watching

Tall ears sink back into form

A returning to the bower of soil

Unseen as a lapwing’s nest at dawn

Like a melting shadow

in midday fullness

The winds sighs with distant whispers of hope

Carrying its edges to hedgerow

Charmed by goldfinch

Gently cupping the blackthorn

In tender hands

The kiss of spring

The Dangerous Woman

The Dangerous Woman

Walking her path with love woven into her locks

That flow freely as a spring river

Carrying the stories of old between her breasts

The milk of tales from past days

Words of spirit that hold the nourishment of the earth

Growing the children with light from ancestral heart song

Torchbearer of a thousand women that stand before and beside her

The blood of the land in their wombs

Holding the memories around the fire

That burns with ancient knowledge

You wonder why she is called the dangerous woman

Let me tell you

She rises from the dust of battles fought

To reclaim her land

Following the cry of her mother to bear arms

Listening to the whispers of her grandmother

That are rooted in rich soil

Holding the hands of her sisters with defiance

In unity

To take back that which has been stolen

These women that listen to each other

Holding that space for the old stories to birth once again

That tell of their power

Rising as mountains from the belly of fire and tears

As one

The lost woman

The lost woman

She steps into the unknown with the scent of desire unravelling in tangled hair

Wishing for forgiveness

That hidden self reflected back in broken mirrors

Hushed underneath those dusty sheets

Forgotten

Cries of freedom placed in far corners

Behind locks without keys

Away from eyes that desire flesh in their hunger

Wrapping thoughts in heavy chains

To sink beneath the waves

Unloved

Not daring to speak out against the prison of

Tattered ideals

The decaying blossom of youth cast aside with the cowering remnants of shame

To be a woman

Curves that flow through sensual body

Unseen

Fury scores a jagged scar down the face of wisdom

A lightning struck tree still seared with the heat of passions touch

Daring to be full as a ripe apple on the branch

Sweet and seductive

Unheard

Acceptance holds out her hand to pull her from this vacuum of denial

Laying a mantle of blood and offerings across her shoulders

The song of the goddess danced with bare feet

Coming home to herself

Image by
Shifaaz shamoon at Unsplash