The heart sees in it's own rhythmsYou have to learn to listen to the way your flesh prickles in warning, in anticipationTo the subtle difference between desire and fear as they run up your spine, speaking through each otherPierced, sweetly speared by sudden stillness, now a cup, a fulcrum, a falling into beingYou have to … Continue reading Away


I will not apologize for being,for belonging to the fathomless.There is a succulence in woundedness that ripens into flourishing in secret places.There is a seeing like glancing blows, a flinching at the edges of all we are,Retraction as communication furled against the world.I would offer you instead a gentled invitation,the Nourishment arising from the poison … Continue reading Ripening

Imbolc Offering

I was a bit uncertain when Brighid requested that I record some of our poetry to celebrate Imbolc this year. Still, it is important to give what is asked of us and so I give this to Her, and to you. It contains a thread of poems from what Brighid and I refer to as my "Apprenticeship." Blessed Imbolc.


I have been engaged with Erin Aurelia's Imbolc Advent. As part of that, and as part of my larger work and play in the worlds, I have been germinating the Word I was given last Sunday. Tonight that all wove together, words as container, or perhaps as the wild tendrils which slowly reach from within the seed, seeking light. It holds within it all that has arisen in and been shown to me these last weeks, and these many years of joy in Herself.

On Sinking Back in Service of Flourishing

I've been thinking a lot about growth and growing in this season of our lives... We are in a time that involves many stressors, adverse conditions that reduce our access to the things that nourish us: relationships, physical contact with other living things/people, genuine leisure time, a sense of basic safety in our environment and … Continue reading On Sinking Back in Service of Flourishing