12d • General discussion
On the Cusp of Beltane
I sit on the cusp of a new season,
Scorpio Moon pressed to my ribs,
Beltane wind in the branches,
my back against the old tree
that has seen me survive myself.
I am not dwelling.
I am not drowning.
I am thanking.
For the lessons that arrived like weather.
For the seeds I planted with shaking hands.
For the way grief can be a garden
if you stay long enough to learn its language.
I call in abundance-
mind, body, spirit…
not as a wish,
but as a decision.
Where there is a will, there is a way.
So I choose the way:
action, mindset, healing,
the holy work of facing the pain
until it becomes something beautiful.
Tonight I am my own surgeon…
scalpel of truth,
hands steady with trembling…
cutting out the rot of old stories,
naming the things out loud,
refusing the comfort of my own lies.
And yes-
it hurts.
It is hard.
It is human.
The veil is thin.
Under Jupiter, Mars, Venus,
the stars speak in a language
my bones remember.
I glance up…
and there I am,
looking back.
A ghost of me.
A caged version.
A self I left locked away
when survival became a religion.
I jump.
I blink.
I breathe-
and she dissipates like smoke,
but something in my soul
opens like a door.
Maybe a timeline shift.
Maybe just the moment
I return to my magical core…
the girl who found peace
in Mother Earth
and the endless dark of the sky.
My candle fights the wind.
I cup the flame…
not to control it,
but to protect it.
To give it a safe place to burn
as I call in safety of my own.
The Moon moves through me in waves,
crashing, cleansing,
washing the burn of my inner turmoil
into saltwater wisdom.
Time to release.
Time to be grateful.
Time to close out a season
and begin again.
Release.
Renew.
Reset.
I am grateful to the Goddess.
I am grateful for the lessons and the blessings.
Blessed Beltane.
Blessed Full Moon.
Blessed becoming.
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On the Cusp of Beltane
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