Moon and Flame

There is nothing quite as lovely as staring into wafting smoke and open flame.

It is ancient and sacred in its simplicity.

In this moment there is nothing else.

It is pure presence, a gift of bliss.

A gecko chirps from the dark recesses of a silent corner as a crooked crescent moon smiles down on me.

SHE is brilliant in an otherwise dark sky.

I wonder how many have shared this liminal space with me, the beauty of the grandmothers of old.

Wisdom lost in modern chaos, but they wake me at the witching hour, whispering for me to re-remember.

My soul is still as I feel a gentle rocking, vibrating from an enlivened womb space.

SHE is here with me, nourishing my tender soul with moonlight and fierce flame.

Temples rise up to meet me as I inhale Nag Champa and still morning air.

It is a gift of beauty, and I am here to receive it ALL.

In this moment, I AM peace, and all is well.

And so it is.  

Photo by David Brooke Martin on Unsplash