
I can’t go back in time and change
the way things were, “so I practice”
showing up differently, Here
and Now. I practise wild trust
in this body: listen to its cues
and nudges, triggers and glimmers.
I practise opening “like a lilac in May”—
daring, brave, despite the risk of frost.
I practise noticing when the freeze
is upon me and learn to shine love
that way, so the melting can begin.
I practise watching the clouds change
from dragon-mother eating embryo,
to no clear thing. I practise
tuning in, tuning out. Noticing.
Noticing. Noticing. I practise magick,
with pen as sword, and notebook
the cauldron that holds it all.
I am a woman with a drum.
So I practise letting a rhythm
beat, beat, beat, beat, beat—
until the arm slows,
the rhythm stops,
the medicine
journey ends.
~ by Angela, The Modern House Witch
(original poet’s lines in “quote marks”)
Read original poet’s poem
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