Finally the sun has come out from behind the clouds to dry my wet cheeks. A gentle breeze hums through the trees and the sound of a blackbird singing anchors me in the moment. My heart is grateful for this green buffer of solace amidst a world gone crazy. Whilst the angry mobs, baying for blood, stalk the streets of a crumbling power hungry paradigm, there are glimmers of light appearing on the horizon as many more souls gather in love to dance to the beat of a different drum.

Once again I feel myself dwelling on the margins, quietly retreating to the edges to join my witchy ancestors, watching and waiting for the storm to pass.

My bones hold the memories of the burning times as I sink into the quiet earth and the cool wind caressing my skin brings some relief. Walking on the razors edge of longing for connection and needing to lie low, to hunker down in the one place I can feel safe, alone.

Around me I see signs of the storm passing and new buds appearing with the promise of another flowering and harvest to come. In the warm evening light, that kisses the tips of the leaves, a gentle smile wraps itself around my heart and a glimmer of hope returns. ‘This too shall pass’, the wind whispers, ‘this to shall pass’…

All of life is calling me. The land is alive with wild blooms that adorn the hedgerows. Foxgloves mingle with campion, bluebells and buttercups. The wild dance of summer lifts my spirits as my body still aches from the recent prolonged winter she has endured. The scars still tender reminding me that healing has its own season, yet the spirit feels the tug of a new dawn.

In the early morning stillness the light softly caresses the petals of a freshly born rose and my heart is filled with the promise of new beginnings. Patience has never been an easy companion and Surrender even less so. How to let go and allow this dropping, this deep sinking into softness, into the sensual realms of flesh and bone on warm, wet grass? How to rest deeply in every moment as the wheel of life turns slowly and my fear clings to hope as she gently wipes away my tears?

Somewhere in the distance, breaking the silence, a baby lamb cries and I am reminded that I am not alone.

Stumbling,
falling into being
bare feet
find wet stone
tender hands
hold my
trembling heart
as tears
wipe away fear
to be reborn
into a river
of aliveness

And sweet
surrender
rising to fill
the empty space
puts a smile
on griefs’
gentle face

Rising from the
womb of the Earth
something is being
stirred inside me.

Could there be anything
more sensually satisfying
than a stew
laced with the
romance of
crushed roses?

Slowly, wrapping
around my tongue,
savouring each bite,
I feast with each nibble
peppered heat
spiced with the
woody caress
of cinnamon;
An invitation
to pause in
pleasure

Soft apricots
pulsing with
sweet nectar
explode with
the essence of
The Goddess
sending a wave
of warm bliss
into the cauldron
of my belly.

Satiated,
tasting the
last kiss of
Summers rich
harvest, I rest.

Minx
Harlot
Holy
*****
****
shamed
de-famed
un-named
disdained

D­esire
demonised
staked in
the pyre
to burn
churn
in Hell
Brimstone
and Fire

Unholy
Passion
buried
under
ground
deeply
depraved
dungeon
enslaved

Misbehaved
Devil
deranged
enraged
disengaged
spark
cag­ed in
the dark

Compassion
gone out
of fashion
banished with
Adam and Eve
still no reprieve

Time to
Rise up
cease
the lament
give and
receive
retrieve
re-discover
your inner
Lover

Resist the
descent
reset
turn the
wheel to
consent
re-claim
re-name
re-frame
re-train

Proclaim
this flame
this fire
this unbound
Desire
let pleasure
reign in
the garden
again!

I’m stuck in
a frozen trap
A spiralling web of
fear and longing.

Falling into love
diving headlong
into this terror
petrified
a rabbit in
headlights
blinded by
consequences

Does he?
Does he not?
Both fill me
with dread

If it is so
then Loss stands
banging on the door
‘Remember me?’
She whispers
through the keyhole
ready to unlock
The Box of Grief
hidden under the
floor boards of
my desire

If it is not so
then the loneliness
of lost dreams
creeps under
the threshold
to wrap the noose
round my wanting
tightening the
knot of numbness
that death left
In his wake

To love again
Is to open the
door to my heart
and stare loss
in the face

To surrender,
tumble, head
over heels
like an
autumn leaf
trusting that
spring always
blossoms in
winters wake

If the red box
were yellow
Or square
Or round
Or blue
Or Green,
Short or tall.
If it were of wood,
Or paper,
Maybe cardboard
Or bamboo.
If it were you
Or me
Or both…
Or not red at all
What would that mean?