Sunday, December 31, 2017

Fire Walk


We come in twos and threes
Dragging our bags of sadness behind us
Each offering her wounds 
   to be witnessed 
Holding space as we 
Kiss the fire with our feet
Throw it all in the flame 
so we can rise like smoke

The fire tender

Shuffling up to the fire
giddy like popcorn
I see a familiar lanky shadow
flickering against the backdrop of crackling coals.
They blink at me playfully as he rakes.
I'm in awe of his devoted service 
  to fire,
      to the goddess.
A lone man walking softly 
   among women... 

Women who gather,
circling the flame for warmth,
for support,
shedding clothes
and surrendering to the drumbeat.
Full and round,
wafting our intentions to the sky
Calling us to reclaim our own power,
feel the lava already pulsing through our veins.
Skin translucent, hair like flames…
Yet he is not challenged by us,
not afraid.
He calmly smooths the coals and recedes,
dissolves into the darkness beyond the circle,
head bowed
as our heartbeats and chants fill the sky.

And my heart tugs
as I grieve for the little girl
who once thought she had to hold herself back
so others would not be burned by her flame.
I walk the fire for her.
And pray for the day we can all walk the fire together.

The shift

Something is shifting.
I don’t know if you can feel it yet,
but if you get really still.
Reject the ancient echo
of fear and scarcity
pulsating from those losing power.
Put one hand on your heart
and the other on the slow rise of your belly,
close your eyes and breathe.
Hear that faint rumbling?
The rising heat?
That’s the future trying to be born.
Will you help her?

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