Sapped Up and Happy

I am so freaking happy. Therefore, not posting.

Why is it easier to write when I’m struggling than when I’m blissed out? Because when I’m struggling I’m trying to figure it out. Nail that shit to a piece of paper like a dead bug.

So, since I am trying to get out of my bliss stupor and fucking post, I will share a love letter. It’s not to him. He just left. We  just spent a couple hours in total happiness which I could write down, but it feels like doing so would kill it. (Hey! See that? Right there. That was an Aha! moment. You saw it happen. I need to get over that shit… Tomorrow.)

Instead I will share this love letter that I wrote in class this weekend. The class was about creating magical community. Or creating community magically… both, I think. It was called Pearl Pentacle, and one of the exercises was to write about someone, thing or place, beyond our close circle of family and friends, that we love fiercely. Here’s mine:

I love the Green God, he who wears trees, flows in creeks, touches me with the seasonal wind. He who changes, now green and strong, now hard and cold and black and gone and me gone with him, hand in hand down to the black center of earth, made small, made dense, he who was born in the stellar density that made molecular magic, he who returns to that darkness every winter because there he remakes life and rises, slow, a long slow rise that comes up in me, with him I rise, sapped up, the chartreuse light of longer March days filling me like Pernod: a drop of creek water makes me milky with pleasure and I rise until the wet autumn wind says “Now, darling, now it is time again to fall.