Full Moon blessings to you all!
“It is too early to wake up,” were my first thoughts of the day.
This is when I forced myself out of bed into the crisp new day. The sky was still a pale shade of grey-blue and the clouds painted themselves across the rising sun in the patchy pattern of a tortoise shell.
The garden was still fresh with dew, the grass a soft moist carpet beneath my feet. The sun trickled like streams of golden honey seeping through the trees. Like an enchanting watercolour, it painted the quiet spaces of the garden in soft magic and tints of light.
It is then, when it’s too early to wake up that I rediscover the pieces of wildness in me and in the still young hours of the day. It is then that the Great Mother wraps me in her gentle whispers and draws me out to bask in sacredness.
It is then that the elusive red-chested cuckoo from the river canopy down the road makes its way to hidden places in the garden trees to serenade the rising sun.
And the gossamer threads of spider-webs glimmer like pieces of the golden fleece.
And the Earth is alive, a vibrant Mother, sends pulses of wild energy into my body, grounding me, cleansing my aura and reaching into my heart-space.
These still mornings, when it’s too early to wake up are the invitations to enter wild worlds, even in the tameness of my garden.
These invitations work both ways, for as much as the Great Mother draws me out, it is important for me to leave room for wild worlds to enter into my own. Which is why I just love Mary Reynolds Thompson’s latest post and short writing prompt, Should My Fox Come Again to My Cabin in the Snow.
Also, I was pretty excited to have my guest post, Finding the kindness of the wild Earth, featured on the Kind over Matter blog last week.