beginning notes on the hydro-sphere

dear one, 

dear name-less 

and name-full 

one, 

flowing and 

changing one, 

one who cannot 

be captured 

by one name 

but inhabits many 

(has many in their 

cloak of social performances)

one who knows the ins and outs

of transition, who dances with 

thresholds.... 

i send a heart - beam out, from the warmth of a fae kitchen 

into the dark, quietness of the night, 

north, and perhaps a little bit east 

this bold love arrow, 

dances w/ stars. 

hopefully, dancing its way 

into your eye-lashes 

as you read and hear this 

tickling the top of yr  heart

(right where it meets the throat)

that is my prayer/spell. 

    my intention, carried by invisible hands. 

I have been feeling a re-surgence of remembrance around worshipping, what some call the Old Religion. The original ways. Of my people in particular, european paganism, earth-based Goddess ways. Except, in my writing and translating it, I imagine the Goddess as a she/they. A walker between worlds. One who bends gender, knows it, discards it, wears it elaborately and w/ pride. 

I have started referring to my queer ancestors, as GrandQueers. I am hoping that this will call them in even more fully, into my life. 

I saw T at the end of a deep and long period of inner stillness, I was awakening, arising out of this, quite fuzzy w/ anything other than silence, and so at first, I saw their aura and recognized it, but could not recognize their form. Did not know who it was. As I got closer, we recognized each other. They seemed hidden a bit but also bright. We had a nice and short exchange. 

How are you? 

How is it being back in the rooms of your past? 

In the lands near the railroad tracks? 

I heard you, holding beauty and difficulty and resilience, today on the phone. 

I so deeply love you, and all the mysterious and emergent ways that you are, you. 

In wild , echo : love, 

f/g