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.
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
A MAN WHO TAKES HIS TIME
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
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
there is a deep
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
my solitary dreams
with the despair
of a Goddess
who has poured love out
but has never received love
no matter how much
I love myself
still I feel the agony
of being unloved
but this melancholia
will Not be the death
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.
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.
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
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
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
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.