She still grows through cracks in the pavement. Each petal of her wholeness blossoming from a sensual vortex of dusted gold. Calling in her melissae to pollinate the Earth with a message of her return.
We are rising in a language that is full of emotion, anger and love that it’s as heady as the oils and sage we use. What about the women we are not reaching because we’re so busy speaking our soul’s language that we’ve forgotten the human one?
To you who are known by so many names across space and time, it is with the fervent devotion of a burst-open heart and the awe-struck reverence of the enraptured that I write in homage at this inky, indrawn moment of the winter solstice.
I will play with honouring my inner Persephone, my own journeys as a Maiden into the Underworld, and look forward towards a transition to Demeter and Parvati, abundant mothers of Shakti and Initiation.