She is a living mandala of light and shadow, and she owes you nothing; she is the cocooned Creatrix unfurling wings so fragile they would crumble in sunlight.
Stand steadfast when the renegade, nameless Goddesses spread their black wings wide and become Her demoness Air Force. Burn these events into your memory, for they are the only ones that will matter soon. This is not the apocalypse, this is the dark moon dawn.
I suppose this sinful Witch will have much to answer for, but if I am to be tossed down to the devil’s house, I would like to get on with it.
Here, in the realm of fallen angels, I am accepted into your warm arms as a freak and heathen, and you are permitted entry into the temple of my body as the Holy Shadow.
No more do we need tiresome, diluted, one-size-fits-all, static verses. Tell me of your joy right now, in this moment. Tell me of your agony, your challenges, and your deep-seated pain. Tell me, woman, tell me now how we can hold each other up today -- not tomorrow, but today.
The voice of Christ cracked under emotion then, and tears welled in my own eyes when He continued: "You are the one the world will need when the shadows of men have festered and soaked the whole of humanity with their rotting ego-born desires. You are the one, my Priestess, my soul-mate, who ...
Witch, you were born wild, and they tried to make you forget your birthright every Sunday. They threatened you with nightmarish visions, and put images you never could have conjured on your own into your little-girl psyche; they planted these fears there, hoping they would take root. Tear them ...
Priestess, the wound will not heal if it cannot breathe. Shed your armor and bind not the external threats: the younger woman, the jealous friend, the fragile man, or the bitter mother. No, bind not the ones who betrayed you. Instead, bind your own fear-ridden urge to protect your ...