I write love poems and prose to the Earth, the sea, the stars, and the realms betwixt + between…
Below are excerpts of my written devotions.
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Thirteen Moons
A Year of Womb-Ritual for Nourishment, Harmony, Warmth, and Love.
In July of 2024 I began a journey of intentional, sacred celibacy that will last thirteen moon // bleed cycles. Each time I bleed I share the wisdom, magic, and poetry I receive from nurturing this menstrual devotion. Below are excerpts from each offering.
Dear Dreamer~
A daily haiku practice inspired by the dream realm.
Each week I meditate on a theme, question, or situation where I seek guidance. I offer my inquiry to my dream-journal, asking my Dreamer to reveal any insights or important messages through my subconscious dream state. For the rest of the week I keep a log of what my Dreamer unveils, marinating in their messages and inviting a daily haiku to form. I then stitch together the haikus of that week, creating a long-form “response” to my query.
Dear Dreamer~
Show me the Scared Guidance of Earth~~~
“in the dark of kelp
and kisses, silken, you are
the Embodiment
of Delight. your face
awash in yellow-gold. let
yourself bask in a
wild Divine. One
who stirs the sugar, melting
alley-echoes. see
that man, masked, duck-billed?
the streamers of cloud and moon?
you will swim in pools
of beads. you will bleed
on white bedding… rubies sing
and spill their prism.
the circle. the hand,
spinal. the space you demand
through smiling eyes. you,
in sweet surrender.
you, a denim patch. you, a
hot reclamation.”
Dear Dreamer~
Show me how to Root into Compassion~~~
“we are fish bodies.
we are yolk sac and fire
starters, lengths of lung
learned from eye and with
other. we weave-whirl, dancing
spirals from long grass.
and we, held in hands
our own, unknown, rest in
palm-coiled daydream
fever. milky tongue.
strolls through color, corridors,
triangular wedge…
remember (forget):
you’re wild indigo. you’re
orb (eclipsed). you’re source
of melody made
steam and trickle. you’re rhythm
in steeped ceramic
rose… the empty stacks
in rows… retrieve… bring back home…
summon, brim, ooze, glow…”
Dear Dreamer~
Show me the Magic in the Mundane~~~
“in the offering
of maze and moss we lower
a lurking divine…
there is smoke: it clears.
there is deluge: it’s rising.
so what is worry
when we sleep within
glass? where is the building of
the beckoning hand?
it is cold-infused.
it is velvety, vital.
it whispers in crypts:
there is an ocean
in every room. the mane dyed
black. the ink gulped gold.
Her chaos, Her cool,
Her rose hips in mesmeric
splendor. The ocean
in every room… She
begs breath and prayer. She dances
us through sand, spell-bound.”
Excerpts from Madam Ocean // Grandmother Rose, an eleven-act prose-piece I wrote and performed in the Autumn of 2023:
These are altars for alchemy. These are portals into the Mundus Imaginalis~ The hot womb, the dark room. The Allgheny, the Anatolian. The first-trimester, the acupuncture table. The winter woods, the bathhouse. The peacock feather, the butterfly wings. The shells, the storm. Philomena, Maria. The mirror eye, the metamorphic. A particular expression of our collective body. A yield toward the inner world.
— ‘Luminous Scars // Imaginal Discs’
Maybe my abortion is the zest of an orange. A spoonful of sugar, or a blossom balm. Maybe I am my great-great-great-grandmother, a dream. Maybe it takes 5 or 6 generations to alchemize a wish.
— ‘Crescent Head Takes a Breath’