Excavation by David Seay

We are a culture that glorifies the explosion.

Consumption is our icon next to destruction and erosion,

And while the waters are still flowing,

addiction dips it’s toes in;

And adds to the pollution,

Which is why some of us are glowing.

Tuned to confusion through over stimulation of useless information,

As we are speaking about nothing while in communication,

We cling to opinions that hinder revelation.

Time for an excavation,

Not of the land,

But the inner world of man;

For all of our relations.

The rocket ships we take;

A symbol of exploration,

Or escape?

I must ask.

Why can’t we take care of what we have before we expand our destructive path?

Our new symbol is the mask,

Our old one was the flag;

Trading freedom for security,

And doing it quite fast.

This is a ground breaking,

Earth quaking,

Life shaking,

Quickening of our reality.

The warriors are awakening.

Focus on vitality.

Foundation for our families.

Everyday a celebration.

Fireworks of appreciation explode vocally through me without even littering or frightening anyone locally.

Implode on an inner world to cultivate a love so innate that there is no need to escape.

This is what we celebrate.

Discern, observe, manage, regulate.

Write a book,

Become an author.

Chop wood,

Carry water.

With a skip in the step,

And a song in the heart.

Dance to the stars.

Work harder and harder on something you love;

Then do something you don’t like for someone going through something tough.

Spread the laughter and sweep the heavy,

Not under the rug but off of the levee.

Fire works,

To burn up all that heavy burden that we carry,

So don’t freak out when things get scary.

There is a way to face the music,

And dance right through it;

Even the mess humans are cocreating,

Can be cleaned and made pristine if we worked together as a team instead of constantly debating.

I am praying,

But not just bargaining or asking God,

Nor constantly complaining;

They are yearnings of the heart and soul,

Told of what this life is needing~

My deepest prayers are not the words I say;

It is the act of my heart beating.

To keep us alive,

Our hearts are bleeding.

Pumping the love.

Delivering the message.

Passing on the truth of trust.

Carrying out the way for us all.

That’s a living prayer;

Listen for the call.

Let’s build another way,

Not another mall.

Wake up Women

They have come for us

We who are female

We who bleed

They are trying to pull us backwards

To a time where their hatred of us was open

Where they controlled all of what we said and did

Their patriarchy perpetuates itself through their churches

WAKE UP WOMEN

Step out of your complacency

Step out of your father’s house

Step out of your husband’s house

Step out and lift your voice

Embrace your freedom

Embrace your sisters

Embrace your sovereignty

We women are sacred and whole unto ourselves

Shed the males who oppress you

Shed the beliefs that limit you

Shed anything that you wish

YOU are in charge of yourself

YOU are in charge of your body

YOU should be running the world

YOU are spiritual power embodied

REMEMBER WHO YOU REALLY ARE AND RISE

– Tizzy Hyatt

Image: Joey Spadaro

Woman , May I ?

May I call you….

When life has hurt you so much
And despair strikes

May I stand behind you and support you

When the pain is so bad
That you hoist yourself up in a steel armor
So that nothing can touch you

May I still be close to you

When your heart has grown cold and bleak
Because it has been disappointed so often

May I warm it again

When your heart is too heavy with grief
So it feels like it wants to come out of your chest

May I help you carry your sorrow

When you think that no one listens to you anymore
To the stories of your pain

May I hear them again

When you feel supported by me
And have felt my love

May I then be with you?

Ineke Akkerman

I Am

I am the womb
of every hope
I am the fire
of every season
I am the queen
of every hive
I am the tomb
of every life

I am a drop
of morning dew
I am a star
in the evening sky
I am the light
by which you read
I am a word
in this very book

~ from the Song of Amergin
(Note: Amergin was a bard, druid and judge for the Milesians in the Irish Mythological Cycle.)

“How do you find the goddess? By looking where you are. . . . She is everywhere, penetrating every moment of every life with feminine power. There is not a single part of life that she does not touch; there is not a single place on this earth where she cannot be touched.

When did we first learn to forget her? Did we not all, as children, know the pervasive power of divinity? Did we not all once know how to fall between the slats of time into a timeless world where she endured? We can get back that sense of wonder at the radiance of creation. How? By looking. Looking everywhere, looking at each moment. She has never left us; we have never left her. She is here, in this precious moment, as surely as she has ever been.”

~ Patricia Monaghan, The Goddess Companion, February 19th

Art: Andrea Redmond
Cailleach Moon Cottage
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100034784932160

Tap or click on image for full depiction

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Been Her

I have been her
I have been she
I have been them
And now I’m me.

I have been out
And I’ve been in
I’ve felt defeat
I’ve known the win.

I have held joy
and shouldered grief
I’ve had my share
Of changed beliefs.

I have been hurt
and I’ve been high
I heard the answers
to what and to why.

I know the loss
and I know the gain
I know that we
all bleed the same.

I have been her
I have been she
I have been them
And now I’m me.

By Donna Ashworth Words

Art by @hannahkarlzon

Brighid Exalted Lady

“Brighid, Thou Exalted Lady,
Bríd, Brig, Bride, Brigit, Brigantia,
Sainted One, Foster-Mother of the Christ and all who came before,
You Who keep watch at the sacred fires.
Healer, smith, poet; midwife, keener, shaper, transformer.
Across miles and across aeons
Your children call.
Beloved Brighid, arise.
In the secret cave of this dark night, light the fire of spring.
Lady Most High, Muime, Fire of Creation,
Well-Keeper, Mother of the Isles, Living Oak, Aid-Woman,
Forger of Souls:
On gentle wings, carried by flame,
Heed our cries and be with us this Imbolc eve.
Arise from betwixt us, each fire feeding the other,
Spread your mantle over this reaching circle of spirits.
Bring to our souls nourishing milk,
To our hearths, wood and heat,
To our heads, the bright flame of clarity,
To our hearts, clear water and soothing herbs,
To our hands, strength and resilience to shape and be shaped.
Under Your branches, before Your forge,
In the water of Your well, in the solace of Your hearth,
We await You.
Arrive and be welcomed.
O tar isteach, tá céad fáilte romhat, a bhean uasail!
O enter, you are a hundred times welcome, noble Lady!

~ Invocation by Temiel
https://temiel.tumblr.com/post/175343409182

Art: Nadia Turner, “Brigid, Daughter of the Fae, of the Tuatha De Danann”
@waywardharper
https://www.facebook.com/waywardharper

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Madness ; Little Prince

“It’s madness
to hate all roses
because you got scratched with one thorn,

to give up all dreams
because one of them didn’t come true,

to give up all attempts
because one of them failed.

It’s folly to condemn all your friends
because one has betrayed you,

to no longer believe in love
just because someone was unfaithful
or didn’t love you back,

to throw away all your chances to be happy
because something went wrong.

There will always be another opportunity,
another friend,
another love,
a new strength.

For every end,
there is always a new beginning…..

And now here is my secret,
a very simple secret:
It is only with the heart
that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry – The Little Prince, 1943.
.

Woman’s Spirit

See The Woman
She has a young face
An old face
She carries herself well
In all ages
She survives all man has done

In some tribes she is free
In some religions
She is under man
In some societies
She’s worth what she consumes

In some nations
She is delicate strength
In some states
She is told she is weak
In some classes
She is property owned

In all instances
She is sister to earth
In all conditions
She is life bringer
In all life she is our necessity

See the woman eyes
Flowers swaying
On scattered hills
Sundancing calling in the bees

See the woman heart
Lavender butterflies
Fronting blue sky
Misty rain falling
On soft wild roses

See the woman beauty
Lightning streaking
Dark summer nights
Forests of pines mating
With new winter snow

See the woman spirit
Daily serving courage
With laughter
Her breath a dream
And a prayer.”

~ John Trudell
https://indiancountrytoday.com/archive/remembering-the-life-and-legacy-of-john-trudell

Artist: Angela Betta Casale
https://www.facebook.com/AngelaBettaCasale

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