Blessed Be. Time of balance. Raking leaves, preparing the grass planting bulbs. Serious season, gathering in…harvesting my tomatoes

Wild Women Wisdom

Oh mother, holy mother, ancient mama, sacred mama~

I honor the fire I build, its slow burn in all this wind.  Feeding of wet wood and kindling, faded newspaper, scrap by scrap.  Feeding sure as I have fed and grown this harvest season, season of light and peak of summer sun.  How many lives that live inside just one?  Feeding that eats, and transforms.

I honor the water of you, mama Atlantic, salty brine and seaweed hair.  Waters of upcoming fall, season of emotion, reflection, season to clean and cleanse~

Season to rest, to make room.

Gibbous moon, yellow behind grey sky, silver cast over the sea.  Last of summer’s wax!  Last of the element of fire, as we lean now west, water bound, yes.  You will peak mama moon just after it has become Fall.  I can feel your tension already, the shine light on what we have grown…

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