Lilith’s Return: Harvest Moon Resolutions.
She had stared too long at the Harvest Moon’s shadow, and she had grieved too long for the countless women she might have been had she been less ireful, more loyal, and of the tamer sort.
This late summer sun emerged from its eclipse anew, kissed so cunningly by lunar grace; she could feel its relentless rays burning through her final, steely layers of self-protection, exposing her reddest and rawest vulnerabilities. For the first time since she’d left the Eden of Lies, Lilith welcomed this slow-melt unshielding.
She had entered the desert-crucible willingly, after all, and she would emerge with scorched skin, bloody thighs, and dark wings spread. She would greet her hooded grandmothers while holding hands with the devil, and she would invite all the hungry ones to the haunted forest to hear her firmest incantation.
Listen for the cosmic vibration of her resolutions now, for the Feminine collective shares this original Witch’s conviction. Listen for her dark and divine promises as they echo from low inside the hollows of your ribcage, and beckon others to uproot their fears of being too wicked, too wise, and too wild. Can you hear her? She is howl-praying to the waxing Harvest Moon just for you.
She is through being a loner, and she knows you can speak in the fork-tongued language of snakes and join her in the quest for a deep and certain truth.
- “I will share the forbidden fruit,” she vows, for this wide-hipped woman has much to teach you about rebellious learning. Resolve to learn what they don’t want you to know, and claw your way down into their dusty catacombs where they keep all their shadowy secrets buried. Ask those in positions of power who sit behind golden doors the questions you know they will refuse to answer, and take their silence as a telling fragility. Sink your teeth into the marrow of nature’s wildest, most forbidden wisdom, learn all you can about the wily ways of the tricksters and the saints, and eat only with those whom you would trust with the lives of your most innocent babes.
- “I will gift this snake,” she grins, uncoiling the thick-bodied serpent from around her neck. Look into its black-mirror eyes; may they remind you to seek out the most insidious instruments of oppression and call them out. Caress the scales, and know that you are God. Let no one defile your spiritual integrity or chain you to any deity, however vengeful and prolific, you know to be untrue. Handcraft your own graven images out of mud and stones, and hide them under your daughters’ beds. Kiss this cold-blooded beast, call her lover, and wait for those who will name you demoness to show the true, muddled colors of their bitter and broken theologies.
- “I will spread my black, furry wings wide,” Lilith croons with finality, arching her back and showing her blood-soaked and burnt feathers. No more will you be ashamed to show your worth. Be too big, too gruesome, and too loud. Bare your teeth, snarl, and gather those who will stand with you while you return to the garden and burn that wretched place to the ground with your fire-spiced breath lest it cage the erotic innocence of others. Be the salvation! You’ve busted open the iron locks that kept you small and quiet. Now, become the liberator. No more will we cower in vacant lands and hope to stay hidden. No more will we seethe in silence over our wound-makers, and no more will we seek easy and irrevocable healing from those whose lips drip with the same venom that injured us.
You are the prophetess, the priestess, and the Dark Goddess incarnate. You are the woman you needed when you were abandoned and betrayed by those who claimed to love you, and you are the dark-winged teacher who will rise and rally those craving a wilder communion.
“I see you,” Lilith says, “come feast on the forbidden fruit with me while the snakes slither around our leg bones and lick our wings clean. Let’s conspire to show the most naked version of our souls we can, and let’s do it all under the Harvest Moon. I’m no longer satisfied by my own unwitnessed rage, and I am writing open invitations in moon-blood to all who care to receive them. Join me in my resolve. Share the fruit, gift the snake, and be ashamed of your wretched wings no longer. It’s time to make good use of our night vision and take to the skies. Let’s cast a more permanent shadow on the outmoded systems as they choke out their last breath while we fly moonward together, bonded by a common, ancient, and enduring wild. So mote it be.”