rolling black storms deliver huge drinks of water direct from the source interrupted by sunshine warmth and growth.
they are a perfect companion piece.
the pattern of storm wind and deluge, the pattern of sun and green, bright green irish green fertile green, the sort of green that nurtures us in a primal way .
the forest dips it branches in submission and gulps delicately of the essence offered.
the island in the dam is barely visible and there is no room in the water tank for more.
who will light the candle for the goddess ? who will offer their deep appreciation for this shower of generosity?
call it just rain, call it just a storm ?? call it anything you like but at least acknowledge the presence of ‘other’ behind it.
the goddess called and I answered.
I bathed in rose petals in a full to the brim bath.
the candle lit on the altar, the incense mocking the breezes of the house.
I danced into the song of life into the rain and sunshine into glory and abundance with utter abandon freely wildly devotedly .
no one to watch no one to care.
just the odd skink gliding past rustling around
and the odd skippety skip of grey thrush hopping across the verandah and little wallaby stopping to stare. just the odd comings and goings of house garden and forest.
I plunged back into the warm bath carrying the rain and forest and exuberance of energy raised.
no one to pass comment to wonder to shake their heads .
just me and her.
the bath and the storm.
how wild she is how bold she plays.
and yet how few answer her these days or even know of her existence .
it is all god god god or something called atheism
which seems to imply belief in market forces, money and the rule of the state.
once the goddess existed in our hearts and we followed her in all her incarnations,
that of great mother virgin crone,
with respect and honour we listened and learned to deal fairly and gently with all living beings .
along came the witching hours when the midwives and the healers the shamans and the dreamers were hung and burnt and defiled in the name of a new god.
the new god offered us money and things – bright baubles and trinkets that we played with like children.
it doesn’t look so bright anymore as the systems of air water earth and fire topple like drunken sailors .
I danced for you my love for you my family for you my relations for all of you.
but mostly I danced on behalf of the goddess
on behalf of the great mother
the fertile abundant womb that offers us our lives and sustains our way of being.