January 1, 2018

And The Goddess is The Space Between



Climbing down the weedy, rocky hill in the dark, through the oldest hour of the year, you found a chair out of nowhere to sit on. I'll never understand how you manage these small magics while I, moonless, am struggling just to see.

I suspect you were born with magic in your blood, an ancient pine hill gypsy singing magic that has people wondering where you came from - Iran, Turkey, Brazil? They never get it right. You came from a tiny mystic country beneath the fog; you came from the dance of a star. Sometimes I imagine the dusky, barefoot goddess who must have led you to me, the moist earth mother, the sea-voiced queen. Her thighs the mountains, her belly the rolling hills, her throat the roads, of the world between that tiny country and my tinier one; her song the way to go. Why to me, though - that is the mystery. I wish I could tie a moon to my wrist, so I could see it more clearly. I wish Christ would hold his lantern high for me, Arianrhod spin a constellation for me, so I could see.

Then again, there is magic in this dark mystery.



8 comments:

  1. "I suspect you were born with magic in your blood..."

    "...you came from the dance of a star."

    Ooh, love these magic lines!

    "I wish Christ would hold his lantern high for me..."

    And, of course, this one took my breath away.

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    1. thank you, i am so glad you let me know :-)

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  2. Beautiful words (as always) Sarah. They leave me with a desire for things unseen and places not yet explored within myself. They leave me wanting more mystery as well as more understanding.

    Happy new year to you friend x

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    1. thank you, new years blessings to you also my dear <3

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  3. Ah, blessed New Year's turning to you, my friend! {{hugs}}

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  4. Thank you for reminding me about the magic, and to listen for the song of the way to go. xo

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