The Waning of Winter.

Deep within a primal stirring.

Winter is the time of dormancy, dark days, long nights, cold shadows and internal energy.

The slow gentle breathing of the sleeping beast exposed in an unexpected gust of warm air.

I hear her sleep, her musky breath, and deep down into myself I follow.

Out my window, nothing moves. Day after day of still and white.

And yet within me, a roar like molten lava rages to be released.

Am I ready to waken the sleeping beast?


And then I woke up.

Open your eyes, she heard a voice say. Looking around she saw no one.

Then she looked within. And realized that from there is where the voice arose, and so she smiled.

But I’m scared, she said, feeling very much alone.

You are not alone, the voice supposed. You are a woven thread of the great Feminine web.  As unique as every snowflake, yet as connected as every drop of water landing upon the sea.

It is time to wake and feel your part. It is time to be here, now. 

Be her now.