Saturday, July 4, 2015

Muse of Santa Cruz

I could have been happy here. In the land of thought where dreamers dance and the ancients hold sanctuary. I could have stalked these stacks and kissed those boys, calling it home with the ocean my playground. 

Instead, I walk in the invisible spaces, crafting potions with my words and hearing confession of ascension seekers. I dream between dimensions and weave with mountains, harvesting fire in my hands. I am at one with the All and it is good.

So thank you for this dalliance, the illusion of a life better, but it holds no glamour over me. 

I know who I am. I know who I serve and I know why it had to be so.

Goodbye sweet muse. You may call me here again as sister co-creator, restorer of the high priestess and lover of the Goddess, but go now, and share your fancy with another.

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