Love Letter From a Hag

I can understand you not wanting to be in the same room with me - though my nails are trimmed short, the claws still show. I'm not dangerous, not like that. But something in me might rip to shreds something in you. Could you be grateful for your own death? Or does clinging to the un-naked and safe suit you better? It's not me that wants your death. But the wildness in me. It smells the unborn, the unalive, the staleness in you and it salivates. What a tasty morsel you would be to yourself if only you would rip the flesh off, keep ripping, down to the bark then the bone of your own true beauty, tossing all that you were into the fire. You should be afraid. So why not, holy terrified, offer yourself up to the altar of you own deepest truth? The question isn't "what do you have to lose?" but "what might you become?" If that makes your blood surge and your heart quicken and your soul fill with longing, perhaps you should take a walk, alone, in the woods and see what finds you there?

20 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Being Innocent Together

When we are with the non-human world, a dog or a cat or a tree or a stream, we are unguarded and open in ways that are virtually impossible with humans. There isn't anything to figure out or monitor,

Inside You Lies a Key

All comes from the Ancient Mother and all is in service to Her being. Wisdom is aligning oneself to this. Foolishness is denying it. Call Her what you will: Nature, Goddess, Intelligence, Universe, E

Let Me Prick Your Finger

let me prick your finger the fourth one on your left hand let me squeeze nine rubies into the earthen cup this is how you return some of what you have taken let the spirits drink you in let us let us