To all the maidens, mothers, and crones who are waking up
Waking up came to me like a whisper on the wind, a strange, lulling voice after being filled to the brim with disappointment— disappointment, heartbreak, and determination to do something different.
That voice then yelled at me from the depths to put pen to paper again. Forced me to throw a match into the dark abyss of what I thought I knew of my inner workings, my history, and my purpose.
Staring into the abyss left me wracked with sobs and feeling like I was losing my mind. Choked by words from Old Gods, trees and plants, ancestors alike; flashes of past stories and visions of future paths I had no idea how to explain.
Until I realized that my words were lanterns in the dark. Drops of embers, then sparks, then little bonfires telling me to keep moving forward, while reminding me of where I had been.
I followed the path of tiny flames through the dark for a year. The words in this book are the lanterns from that journey, one of extinguishing old loves, walking through new fires, and finding nature again.
Perhaps in reading them, you will find your own sparks. For in this life we are all trying to find our way in the dark, and the voice that reminds you of who you are —the one that beckons in the shadows of your heart — is worth the lighting of a lantern.
Quarter 1: DISAPPOINTMENT & EPIPHANY
January 20, 2021
There is a passion and kindness that alights new lovers, but make no mistake:
I am a Venatrix,
not your infinite well of patience and grace.
January 21, 2021
Forgiveness and grace in the face of mordacious words
are touted as the path to enlightenment.
It feels like an unjust punishment as I swallow broken heart with tears.
Cruel, but not unusual.
January 22, 2021
I don’t want to be the sole lighthouse on the cliff,
your beacon in the dark and only light of safe haven.
I am looking for my mate in lead line,
to be each other’s light keeper.
To guard cliff and calm raging sea with equal flame and light,
serving as beacon to each and all surrounding.
January 29, 2021
Hello Moon.
My oldest confidant.
I will shed a flood of tears tonight while you are here, clear and in full view.
Though you have no words to offer,
I find comfort in your presence,
a haven to share all sorrows
where heaving sobs wash away my broken pieces
from the hidden places your light has found.
All so that I may begin to let them go,
and try anew.
January 30, 2021
Do not try me, infantile man.
My soul may be old and offer visage of cultivated calm,
but I am born of a union of the Northmen;
forebears bred from tempers and axes.
My sun bears the sign of the God of War.
I will eviscerate your existence from my reference,
in the time it takes to pour my scotch.
January 31, 2021
I stand before a full moon,
palms outstretched, feet in the ocean,
and I feel something entrancing.
A calm that washes over me like the waves I stand in.
It raises strength bred from peace deep within.
A strength I will hold at the surface now
to shield my way forward on a path fraught with tempting fires,
now turned embers with Luna’s gift.
February 1, 2021
I am “sweet” you say, sir?
Oh hun.
You have slumbered too long and forgotten how to see a woman.
I am the fire in your lungs when you can’t breathe after I leave.
I am the ache you feel in the night when your withdrawal ignites.
I am the Moon that commands your tide and will be gone in the morn.
Confuse me for candy and you best return to naptime.
February 2, 2021
Woman, hear this,
your ignivomous of words:
Do not have the force to scorch this earth and alter paths as you desire.
They are met with the apathy of the sea swallowing arrows of fire.
Hear this: if he wanted to, he would.
February 3, 2021
This carcass was burnt long ago
by flames ablaze from your thousand carelessly tossed matches.
Blinders escorted you past the ashes,
littering the retort that was our home.
How surprising that when someone else found fertile soil in the embers,
you thought to reclaim sacred ground.
This succession is not yours to plunder.
February 4, 2021
I am not one for chess.
I prefer swordplay—if I must endure games—
a swift and visceral death for my opponent,
not Machiavellian maneuvers
for Kings and Queens in jest.
The pyre to Valhalla is all the better to toast my scotch.
February 5, 2021
This garden is meant for exploration,
like an uncharted basin or ancient glen
full of delights and dangers.
Pay heed, my handsome friend:
the timid and callous will bear a Goddess’s wrath and expulsion through the gates.
Those of purpose and strength of heart,
may watch orchids bloom
and feel the divinity of Eden.
February 6, 2021
Yes, I am mighty,
some have said formidable,
though I am still lashed by careless words,
though I am bruised by conflicted actions.
Do not believe this heart is walled
because my spirit refuses to darken.
I will claw my way, if needs must.
The mighty continue,
for giving up is insufferable.
February 7, 2021
I am thinking of you this morning.
Your laugh.
Your beard in my hands, temple touched to mine.
The grumble that escapes when you’re in the crook of my neck,
hands on the small of my back.
This sensation could be vorfruede,
though the edges of my being whisper otherwise...
Anam Cara.
February 7, 2021
When I cannot have the Moon to draw strength,
I return to the woods.
The aura of the trees is comforting embrace.
Their voices, a slow sway that lulls.
I am ready now.
Beware.
February 8, 2021
You foolish boy,
to have wasted the gift that was love
with your timidity and vacillation.
Now you dare ask forgiveness with a pittance of justifications.
The weak make excuses,
and children do not feast at this table.
February 9, 2021
Oh, my beauties.
I wish to serve as shield for your heart,
to carry the load of all your tears.
Though how could I ever steal your summit,
so as to selfishly keep you on safe ground?
Great love only comes from great lessons.
I concede to serve as Sherpa,
though one with axe and sword for the journey—
I am still a Mother of the North.
February 12, 2021
Return to the woods, my sweets.
The Ancient can be felt where the stillness settles.
Curl into their limbs for rest and comfort.
There is warmth and wonder in the darkness of this winter.
You will find it
when you return to the woods.
February 13, 2021
You manifest in small, unexpected moments.
The ache of you returns with full force
as though we were but a moment ago.
All the things we had and lost.
All the things that could have been but for fear,
the heartache of consequence,
and lack of words.
The breath is knocked from me again,
and I am left gasping,
waiting for the ebb.
I do mourn the living.
February 14, 2021
Something dark is rising in me,
malefic and nefarious.
Amassing my vices,
the rage of broken promises
and fury bred of misused words.
That which I kept caged for too long is climbing the wall.
The havoc I wreak will be wicked and delicious.
February 14, 2021
The heat within is constant, radiating.
Melting snow beneath bare feet, undaunted.
Warming these sheets, smoldering.
Do not lay hands upon nor draw me near if ill-prepared.
I will not control this fire.
Dance in the flames with me, or burn.
The delight is yours for choosing.
