Composed: Saturday, October 21st, 2017.
Sleeping with the Earth rested my body in ways I didn’t think were opened to me. Heaven’s dew in the risen morning light coalesces into my body’s sweat, drops slipping down my skin as the dawn’s wind passes through and over me. This day will be heated.
I hear my companions below, urging me to go. To move. How long will I watch the crimson ninth-cord, envisioning its flutter temptingly in that breeze; waving for me to reach and hold it near and dear, and oh-so-close to me.
I strip off the upper emblem of my snow white’s garment, the red ribbons of my song and my veil unconcealed. I take care not to disturb the Great Cat; I let him rest!
This is painful and my in~carnate greatly desires to move, gust that reaches a cord calling as mine. Kitty’s eye is closed, that one I may perceive. There is power there. The rod is marked for mine; and my staff is as empty swaying in earthen grasped. I can breathe and weave life into my own, embrace the cord fluttering invitingly.
There is no need to discard. Staff and rod, together, united as in my desire. My love. My strength and power and passion; my beauty in expression.
The Cat is sleeping, I wait and await for him to wake – lest I disturb his rest.
Though, I can feel the browned kittinine sing to me …?