image - Adam Bird Photography "It hurts," I cried. "I know," replied the Witch of my soul, "And look, the Forest beckons." So it did, once more, a thick underbrush of reckless vines, criss-crossing the broken parts, stitching them anew. The churned Earth seemed to crumble underfoot, loose and unstable, broken down from all the wandering back and forth, back and forth, without real rest. "The roots remain, deeper down," she croaked, knowing what was in my mind of course,

image original - alessioalbi There were howls of warning of what was coming; a song on the wind of the spiritual climate, teeth gnashing and growling; the lesson of the Wolf was cracking through the world, ready to tear at throat and draw blood. It was not until afterwards that I realised we were seeing through the Other Eyes of the Wolf, for I was not prepared, not engaged, not expecting the spiritual medicine to arrive, perhaps preoccupied with my own emotional responses to

photography - Michael Germosén Primal Woman, I call to you And speak of spitting fire and Ocean tide Swallowed whole by a passion of being And unbecoming The lines in the dark blur into memory Timeless and ageless as salt bought yearning Teeth chatter and chomp through the pages of history Gnashing at an ode to freedom Something in our loins Mystery is not the unknowing But the unlearning of a half measured truth Matted in animal fur and war wounds Spears held tight

Image original - struggled.by sollenafotografie Woman You rose up From dirt and earthiness You were not Conceived by the stars To shrink into nothingness Show me your scars The bruises of spirit that Mark who you are Scream from the places That you don't show Mapped on the inside Hear me when I tell you A thousand times On a thousand shores I will break these chains As I did once before You will not shackle us again Remember The grit of who you are The lines marked i