Magic.. You never know when you’re right in the middle of it. And other times, you feel it in your bones. That you are being called upon.. on those important days that you choose to engage in the magic making, being star of the show down. The Fire work in your own sky. So to speak.
The Sun that shines so brightly we bathe in it.
He is the magic in my life. The road trips symbolize the crazy journeys, the wind in our hair, the unventured great unknown we’re about to discover, like children still, curious and playful, the mystery we’re so drawn to. It happily R.S.V.P.s and obliges to our request.
Omens and signs. Easy to find for those who still believe.. In the wonder of shiny, multi colored, pretty rocks delivered by the cool, icy waves, rolling in the Sea a million years, just to find our eyes and hands and stir up a childish awe and joy that it is there, calling to us in rays of the Sun. The salt in the Air. Throwing the heavy rocks laden with symbolism and energy from other times, when they were needed. Thanking them for the gifts they brought, and now before the new Dawn, releasing and shedding.
Nature and her quiet breath. Alive and buzzing underneath her sleepy appearance. We have the entire forest to ourselves. Undisturbed. Peaceful. We walk. Through the portals and time. Treading upon the soft moss, under the sweet-smelling firs and the pines, ever green, as if here amid the darkest Winter exists an eternal Summer out of time and space.
The prayers and healing. An energy of lOve and a conscious desire to invite it in. The Cosmic Blue. It is these days in the most sacred and holy of times. The birth. Of Light. And the Year to come with all its little initiations.
Magic.. Is spotting a winged messenger unexpectedly. Rare. Grounded. Out of its element. And these are the days coming.. grounding the Air, not setting it all on Fire.
More magic, as She visits one last time just before the mark and the gates open and that gap is closing behind us forever.. She conjures up all of her darkness and sees us off, as she knows her time with us is up, one last show down as her Black birds swarm over us, making an awful noise as they land their heavy wings in the naked trees as we drive by. Like that day, on the Emerald Isle, through the passage, the Womb of rebirth, the priestess magic we did..
Hand holding, pledging and renewing our vows we walk through the gates of Solstice, each casting our seeds of intention into the Darkness of creation. It grows now. Into Light. The clouds roll by revealing the endless starry cosmic womb above us and around us. Holding us. Carrying us. Embracing us and our wishes. Nurturing our seeds, watering them gently by soft starlight.
Seven Sisters are dancing their cosmic Blue blessings above us. Seeing them clearly at last, brings another bubbly excitement of joy to our hearts. That’s the thing about cosmos. It has countless of treasure and discoveries.
The day ends in deliberate light. Now Christmas comes. Magical.