Take my hand…

Thank you for spending some time with me! I hope you find something here that brings you Joy, comforts your heart, inspires your soul, or stimulates your mind.

I am a Poet, Priestess, Songwriter, Singer, Mother, Mystic, Music Maker, Tantric, Teacher, Student, Aspiring Author, Playwright-In-The-Making, Ritualist, Thespian, and writer of esoteric musings about Life, Love, The Universe, and why people do the strange things we do.

For me, this is the beginning of an adventure to pursue my passion for writing, harness my voice and develop my skills, and share some beauty with the world. Walk with me a moment or two, and hear the Words Dancing on the Wind.

I Am The Light

A man who takes his time…

Not my writing or art, but I found it so deeply moving and resonate with my soul’s longing that I wanted to save it here where I can read it again later


Have you ever met a man who takes his time? A man so in tune with your energy, your mood, your expression that he knows what you need without an explanation?

A man who doesn’t push you away when you’re upset or frustrated. A man who knows how to stand with firmness and calm in his masculine while your feminine works it out.

He’s taken time to get to know your mind and your body. He sees you, he listens to the little things, even when you don’t know he’s listening.

He learned how to connect with your mind and he’s learned how to touch your body. He’s able to slow things down and read your body’s response to his touch. He doesn’t rush, he’s not pleasing you for his own release. It’s for you with no expectation, no pressure, no manipulation, no games.

You can let go because he’s created a space of absolute respect and trust. He knows when to kiss you softly, when to hold you gently or when to consume your mind and body with masculine power and intensity.

Only a man who takes his time gives a woman time to experience every level of response, layer by layer, deeper and deeper until her mind, body and soul all explode together.

Only a man who takes his time can give her a release of what lays caged beneath her surface. And only a man who takes his time will ever glimpse the heights of ecstasy a woman is capable of, her secret remains hidden to all others.

Author: Jennifer Funk @whatevolvedwomenwant
Artist: Laura Bifano

No longer

I’m no longer crying myself to sleep
Over people
who were never worthy
of my tears
I’m no longer holding on to regrets
Over choices
Where I did the best I could
with the options I had
I’m no longer feeling insecure
Over expectations
I may not be able
or willing to meet
I’m no longer allowing fear of missing out
Over opportunities
That weren’t meant for me
because I had other things to do
I’m no longer doubting my worth
Over people
Who couldn’t see the precious gem
Standing in front of them
I’m no longer living a life
Of denying My Self
The love I have so freely given
To others

Blessed be, and happy #fullmoon

~aurora winddancer
October 9th, 2022


there is a deep
aching sadness
so intensely painful in my soul
that my body feels it
like a great hole in my chest
filled with only the weight
of my longing and sorrow
a grief of aloneness
that not only drowns
my waking hours
but haunts
my solitary dreams
with the despair
of a Goddess
of Love,
who has poured love out
for eons
but has never received love
in return
no matter how much
I love myself
still I feel the agony
every day
of being unloved
but this melancholia
of loneliness
will Not be the death
of me

The First Hurt

When did we first hurt each other?
Do you ever wonder?
When did the first human first turn
on another human and hurt them?
And what could cause that moment,
What would create that impulse?
Abel and Cain, so many are taught
Were the first siblings to have relationship fraut
With envy and insecurity, jealousy and fear
Where the first violence of one human
Onto another, was born
But how can that be so?
And how can it be so easy,
To overlook the original birth of violence born
For how could the First man
Have ever known, how to make love
to the first Woman?
What primordial instinct could have possibly caused
The original man to touch tenderly
And gently, that most innocent of female
How could the first conception
Have been anything else
But a painful violation
Of a being who could not even conceive
Of consent, and how could we spend
Millenia as a species, pretending
That the first violent act of human upon human
Was a man against his brother,
And not a father against the Mother.

aurora winddancer
4/27/22 at 3:33 a.m.

I feel like this might be the most powerful piece I have ever channeled from the divine feminine. I really hope someone else sees it.


I will

of whether anyone else loves me
I will love me

of whether anyone else chooses me
I will choose me

of whether anyone else holds me
I will hold me

of whether anyone else believes in me
I will believe in me

of whether anyone else hears me
I will hear me

of whether anyone else sees me
I will see me

of whether anyone else heals me
I will heal me

of whether anyone else values me
I will value me


~ aurora winddancer


The world says “Fuck You!”
On a regular basis
To women who deserve
So much more grace
“What’s wrong with doing this thing
You clearly don’t want to do
That only benefits me
And does nothing really for you?”
“Because I Don’t Want To!
That’s it’s, that’s the whole answer.
I owe nothing to you
And you’re not entitled
To your presumptions
Any more than you’re entitled
To my body
Which is Not At All by the way
In case no one ever told you
Your callous games to get laid
Are too old and too played
And I’m really not interested
And that’s why I said
“No I don’t want to!”
That’s it, that’s the whole damn answer
And I don’t owe you
Any more of an explanation
Any more than I owe you my body
For Your Entertainment
Or to sate your frustrations
I thought you were actually
Interested in me
You are only interested
In what I can do for you
What you can use me for
So “No! I don’t want to!”
That’s it, that’s the whole answer
I am not a disposable toy
For your short-term gratification
And I don’t owe you anything more

~ aurora winddancer
july 29, 2021

Solo Trip

At some point along the way
I needed to accept
That you weren’t going to meet me
Where I needed to be met
This affection I gave
Was a one-way ticket
The round-trip price
Of a love unrequited
Was more of a cost
Than my heart could afford

~aurora winddancer
July 6, 2021


Life lived
In the spaces between realities
Astounded by the fragilities
Of barely conscious humanity
Standing on the blood soaked
Lands of stolen identities
Grief swept plains
Dried crisp in swealtering heat
Raging rivers now whimper
Unsure if they will have the strength
To wind their way back to the Mother
Oceans choking on refuse
Infected fevers of once cool waters
Emptied spaces
Where life flourishes no more

The Earth brings up Her dead
Bones of betrayed children
Brought en masse to the surface
Of human unconsciousness
Testify of inhumane cruelty
That can no longer hide
In plain sight

Lives lived
In the spaces between realities
The Truths we deny
And the fantasies we buy
Hiding from shame
In gated communities
Pretending there is not
A great Reckoning coming
Privileged whiteness
Has never been clean
It is stained with the blood
Of all those oppressed
To buy its privilege
No tears of too-late remorse
Can wash away

~ aurora winddancer
July 1, 2021

Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum LP

Congratulations to Native American, Louise Erdrich on winning a Pulitzer. File this under things I wish I’d written:

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” ― Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum LP


You walked into my heart
Like you’d owned the place for years
The keys in your pocket the whole time
Like there wasn’t a decade of dust
Covering the floors
Like the doorbell was set to your chime
Pulled back the drapes
And opened all the windows
To let the light come streaming in
I just stood there in the middle
Of all that quiet empty space
Wondering where the hell you’d been
And how you knew the address,
How’d you have the keys
To walk into my locked up heart
As if you’d owned the place for years

~ aurora winddancer

I know that there is a new song in this one and I haven’t finished writing it there’s more to add. There’s a melody in my mind that I hear with this one. I’m looking forward to composing its completion.