Some songs, they come & go. Not this.
Perhaps... it is not a song.
Blessings to you this Esbat, my Friends. I Love you.
|La Luna, the Heartstring Puppeteer.|
|Loving text from S.|
|Photo from my heartstring A.|
|Flight. It's time.|
"There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."
"But it is a thousand times better to make every kind of mistake than to slide into the habit of hesitation, of uncertainty, of indecision."
Stop the words now.
Open the window
in the center of your chest,
and let the spirits fly
in and out!
|"Infernal Apparition" by Paul Lormier, 1848|
"The energy of the evening was lacking & what little there had been died away in an unceremonious manner. At an unusually early hour, the other women -- now more than vaguely disaffected -- meandered home, leaving just the two of us & the Night. She stood, I sat. I looked up at her & realized how much & in how many ways I will miss her. She has always struck me as unusually carefree & a touch New-Agegy, but not tonight. This was supposed to be our parting, but she was mad, mad, mad. There was room now to speak of taboos -- that which has left us all reeling inside but was left unsaid. Instead of exchanging pleasantries, we shared our chagrin. Raising her rich, full, singer's voice in disgust, she shrieked, 'Why the fuck do we train for this shit if we do not use it for anything?!? The time is over! No more messing around -- if you know how to do Magick, do it people!'"
|Rupi Kaur, artist, poet, woman.|
|Segovia Amil, artist, poet, woman.|
|Like the feline, She sleeps ever so lightly.|
The Moon/La Luna, from Patrick Valenza's
Trionfi Della Luna & Trionfi Della Luna Paradoxical limited ed. sets.