Kristin Faigh

Ritual 13 Moons began a year of creating an incredible piece of intentional, intuitive work on canvas with acrylics, with monthly themes and incredible facilitation by Maestra Shiloh Sophia McCloud, an accompanying journal inspired each month by Jenafer Joy, movement with Cassie, and a myth slowly downloaded from my soul over the year. The themes for each month are the chapter headings for “COURAGE UNKNOWN”, a 22-page odyssey of my soul journey alchemizing throughout this incredible process.

Cheryl Gallagher

This blended pair of Sacred Beings manifest spiraling universes through unity and balance between masculine and feminine creative forces. A mighty Orbis Imaginalis swirls into and out of a quasaric vortex of Sun and Moon, generating stars and galaxies alike, unified and yet distinctly apart, an act of creating and destroying…The woman in yogic posture on the right both observes and feeds into this Shiva-like dance of creation and destruction, the story of her own life, represented by the paper scroll, (which has an inevitable end in sight), passes under her hand as she observes it’s passage, unattached, watching her own life story dissolving into the endless vortex of time and space. At the same time, she tugs at a shining portal, from which shoots her intentions into the evolutionary mix, duly noted by the creative muses, giving meaning and context to the yogi’s existence and her future.

She also levitates over a multi dimensional Fibonacci spiral in which the laws of physics do not necessarily apply, the water flowing from a nearby ampoule flows both up and down as it tracks to the placid pool beneath, the pool from which primordial life is sprung.

So much symbolism….so much to say, a pomegranate represents the deep hidden knowledge revealed, the flaming heart crest, a homage to the giant all-consuming Love that is the revelation source animating all, a tiny human fetus shines its light and observes the whole scene from the lower left, from its nascent powerful position of knowing and yet awareness of newness and unknowing, another source of manifestation while manifesting. Molecules construct and deconstruct in view of myriad mysterious eyes. Is this scene only the secret dream of this baby being? Is this the knowledge we are all born with and lose as we incarnate?

Now displayed in my gallery, the increased depth of meaning, symbolism and process shown by this year-long moonly creative flow is so obviously revealed alongside other paintings that tackled a single focused intention within a shorter time period. The measured progress through time and process gave a structure on which revelations could not only bud, but blossom into a fuller awareness of all that is, all that we live each in our own personal vortices of creation.

Karen Maunder

Kelly House

In the beginning the Beings seemed separate, referred to as; Good Bad, Light Dark or Hidden and Revealed. They answered to their names accordingly and never questioned it, until one day they noticed eyes peeking out from behind the keyholes. These eyes caught the Beings curiosity and they began to explore their origin. The story had be told of a Great all powerful Being from which they both emerged from, who watched over them. They pondered if the eyes were of the Great Being, and wondered if so, why were they hiding in plain sight.

They pondered the thoughts as they moved about their time. Noticing another much larger eye coming into form between them. This evoked stirs of wonder, to where and who these eyes belonged. They had heard of a Third eye, which was said to downloaded info from the Cosmos. Could this be the Third Eye, and what was it doing here?

They both began to drew their conclusions while holding these inquiries. That brought in more symbols and a presence came into form as a traveler carrying a small, yet bright lantern. This lantern began to shine and sparkle light its light onto the places and symbols that were in the background previously out of sight. From this light the eyes beyond the keyholes boomed into a glowing Wise Woman, and the Sky Eye began to shimmer and twinkle. All sharing their pieces of wisdom to the Beings and within the wisdom it was understood that they were all connected as one. The parts that seemed separate in the beginning were actually different pieces of the same puzzle, that together made up all that was within, hidden in plain sight.

Juniper Mainelis

“The Carnival of Life is a ride. Get your ticket Inside!”

Step right up. You won’t believe your eyes The Carnival of Life is a ride… Get your ticket inside!

You’ll be amazed, see for yourself, all the stages of a life’s journey are here. The Legendary self, the inspiration from a Muse-led life. See through the eyes of the Artist. Watch the Alchemy as the cycles of life dance. And last, but not least, be inspired by the Visionary who see’s, with the eyes of the heart!
All the faces that have shown up in this painting each have a story. All are reflections in the looking glass of time, from my life. The layers embedded within are infused with love, intentions, dreams, and visions from my past, present and future selves with many twists and turns to the story! Let’s step into the canvas, shall we?

On your Right side is where many of my outer world expressions: “The performers” have congregated. The Diver being born unto herself while waking up. The Ring-mistress grandly presenting this viewing. The Dream-maker creating magic. The Artist Juniper Bay Meadows; wearing her iconic top-hat. And the shape-shifting contortionist, prepared to create alchemy. Is it an illusion? Could it all be real? They are All ready for Show Time!
On your Left side, the Legendary Stages of Life from the child, beginning the dance. The One ending the dance while setting her sights on the portal beyond.

Young Me looking back on my life; wearing the signature moon earring. The Illuminated One who has transcended to the starry heights. And the One who is floating in a dream, slipping away from life’s drama.

The Center is where the One from another galaxy appears. Where the One who looks within dwells. Then there’s the joyful Visionary, who wears a mask to veil her brightness. The shadow-self who appears to be in distress. The One pulled in all directions. And the Inner child; I wonder what secrets she keeps?
Yes indeed, all the profiles of faces are reflections of me as well. With all eyes opened and looking up. Guided by the stars and the moon phases.
With so many chapters that there isn’t room for all of them here! The Carnival of my Life has been quite a Ride!

All the characters in this production are interpretations solely represented without explanations for entertainment and personal reflection. If there is a familiarity or one whom you recognize, it is by sheer coincidence. The Carnival of Life is a House of mirrors, a place of reflections of what has been, what is, and what could be…. Enter at your own risk!

Shiila Safer

star beings spiral into creation
becoming earth
deep waters of pain and separation
birth renewed hope, beauty and connection
the interconnected web of life
is woven with threads f love
tree people and plant beings
weave together earth and sky
holding my consciousness
wild, free, returned to stardust
i am birthed as a cosmic being
born of the stars
and earth’s primal waters
i claim my whole identity
circle of life awakened once again

Shiila Safer
Ritual, 2/13/22

Lynn Letourneau

Cloaked in my dismay
Shadowlace speaks stories of Old
She has endured the great Wounding
Her creative flow disrupted and ripped
She remains not fully alive nor relatable
Yet, Shadowlace has awakened my Muse now intending co-creativity
The mysteries of life begin to bud onto Her red earthen robe glittering lace spun of gold

Emergent, Wyld, The Lionface Dakini appears
A mirror of aliveness
A compassionate Witness to my inner life

Oh! Creator of possibilities
Shared sorrow within our Heart emits petals
Falling into the vortex of Feminine Grace
I understand you are a true Guardian to my Soul
and feel grateful and humbled by your Power

I, Wyld Twin, tread lightly yet have keen sight to see it all
holding the pollinated promise, a portal to our Soul

Listen! How my earth quakes and growls
Listen! How my winds can howl
Wonder! If the waters will rise?
Wonder! How to tame my fire?

Life itself is shouting
Open up!
Connect! and
Love One Another!
We smile, for a larger myth is unfolding

Three wisdom orbs begin to appear as
Flux, Transformation and Flight
nourishing all aspects of myself
Imagine your Becoming

Sunshine Galaxy’s birth was sudden
yet it has taken centuries to create
As the moon beams love
through the Dakini’s strands of hair
An ancient eye discerns and peers out to all of you
I reach out and touch the Wyld Twin’s Heart
My heart pollen mirrors yours

Hear the music as filaments of colored light
Move beyond the pond
Remember from the mud grows the Wisdom Lotus

In the timeless spin of the Spiral
Spin your Muse
Whatever arises for you
Be willing to dazzle yourself and ignite the
Flame of curious glow

Carbery Neal

Once upon a time when
the children go dancing in the night.

Maya called
Spirit answered.

Will she accept him?
He her?

It’s the dance of life
spiraling
around and around.

DNA in the making.

Ancestors are dancing
singing
drumming
rattling.

Life force
returning.

Old wicked
owl mother
hoots in the night
No No No.

Tiger
No eyes,
No ears,
No mind,
No tongue,
Nothing to fear.

Rooster
knows his business
without a doubt.

Will she receive her brother?
Will he receive his sister?

Brother love
Sister love

No eyes
No ears
No mind
No tongue
Nothing to fear.

Together they dance
in love
around love.

Wishing for love,
for the lover
that she wishes him to be,
that he wishes her to be.

Twins
born
in
time.

Time forgets,
forgives.

Will they?

-carbery 1/4/22

Colleen Crotty-Good

The child looked up from the pool of water swirling in the crick to watch the foliage as it seemed to shimmer and form into a shape and the just as quickly shimmer into a new shape. The shape of a woman emerged as if it were made out of the foliage itself. Yes, it was definitely a woman moving toward her.

It was the Ancient One and she came back many times over the years to sit and talk about things both large and small. But over time the girl could only hear a whisper of her voice in the babbling water and even later only at the edge of the ocean where she longed for the gentle voice and wise words of the Ancient One. The woman she became forgot the water song but the child she was never did.

The young woman became a Forest Ranger and it came to be that she worked in the Red River Gorge. One day as she patrolled the banks of the rushing water, she came upon hundreds of eagle feathers strewn across the forest floor. The feathers shuttered in the wind that lifted them up and then let them fall. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest and the power swirled around her. She gathered this sacred gift with trepidation, knowing it was illegal for a white girl to do so, but fearing more the consequences of spurning this powerful gift.

In secret she wove the feathers with a stitch and a prayer into a mandala. Each small action taking her further into a crime that threatened to destroy her career, yet with each stitch a note of the water song returned to her. In secret, she danced with the mandala a new rhythm. Where would this lead her?

Cassie Bull

Facing love and loss, grace and grief, hand in fiery hand – she rises into the day.
She tends her garden of wild roses and underground strawberries
Harkens to the murmuration of starlings, a shape shifting of swirling solid liquid and the deep digging stumbling nature of love
She sows seeds of acceptance so that the world may no longer argue with reality
She cultivates the ground of assurance that all may know, in the deepest part of their souls, that they are magnificently better than essentially infused with ok
She will water and protect how necessary clear boundaries are, to know the difference between inner and outer, you and me, staying clear within herself
She will pull the weeds that confuse all into forgetting
She will plant forget-me-nots to help those remember detachment, to remind them to release any thought feeling emotional demand that life be any particular way and let the wild nature of being have its way
She will double dig the beds of her own power and trust the growing emerging whispered growls of ecstasy that wiggle to the surface, reaching to bask at long last in the sun
She will let the garden magic mix of soul, water, sun and love remind all to see the whole and the holy and not fixate on the bitter seed that refuses the light or the small stone that sinks into hearts when not tending to the garden magic mix of soil, water, sun and love that is the well-being essence call swimming surrender of the swirling current of life
She will plant wisdom along with her breath into the garden as life meets needs caressing longing uplifting soul in joyous union where worthy meets worthy
Simply because.
She grows, we grow
She becomes, we become
She tends, we tend
To planting the wild garden of soul.

Carolyn Siegel

Emerging

I am emerging
Coming into form
Patience
I am coming.
I hear you whispering in my ear
Of the joys of this world.
I have felt pain and isolation
And have hidden away.
But the Fire Woman within
Has kept my heart flames alive
Waiting until the time was right
For emergence.
She has kept me warm from within
The ever-present love aflame.
I haven’t really been alone.
It only felt that way.
Fire Woman has been with me.
So has Wise Woman
Ever watchful
Ever connected to
The quiet of my soul
Listening
The wisdom waters nourishing me
In silence
In nature
Birdsong
Ever aware, watching, waiting.
She knows how to get inside me
Through the upper portal where
My spirit guide leads me inward
And yet outward
To be in community.
My Known Self is there
Jitterbugging
Listening to
The whisperings of my guardian angel
Paying heed.
Feeling watched over
Protected
Cared for
Even when I didn’t know.
I am emerging
From deep within
Taking form out of the
Ashes of my youngest self
Who fled in red-hot anger and fury
Only to return hidden and quiet
Until now
After Fire Woman paved the way
For my emergence
Through the forge of becoming
Into my own form
Still emerging.

Sue Bayley

What triggers. creativity? Creativity starts in the realm of spirit, and human energy blends a beautiful broth for the soul. The balance and release that follows, fuels self-love and self-discovery. The journey of self acceptance has just begun. Like Helen Keller before me I had to be determined to thrive, shadowy beings tormented me and demons deceived me. Trapped in the body, in the world I did not understand, I felt misunderstood and gave mistrust as a payback. Like Helen Keller, I found beautiful souls willing to extend love to me, and offer bridges across the chasm between of neuro-diversity and the neuro- typical world. Anne Sullivan opened a portal for Helen Keller, and my soul has been the genius behind my own guidance tool, that has arisen from within myself. I recognized that I can say I speak the language of selective mute, the anxious child, and that of the advocate and guide. I am fluid in both languages. Sue Bayley. The Autistic Whisperer of Tangledtreetribe. Plato said “know thyself”, it is a tough choice to turn 180° from relying on others, to navigating your own way, and making your own choices. As a child of the divine it is imperative, that you drill down into the natural genius within, and destroy the tongues of conditioning. However you can be in the world, but not of the world, and you can press reset, with a fresh choice to move towards the life you want. Intentional creativity and this particular 13 moon image, entitled: “The World bridger” feels different to the ones in other years. In that there is no division between the values and ethics of my day-to-day life, and what shows up from the pen or the brush. My inner transformation came from finding ways to be expressive. This decision has opened gateways, so that my highly sensitive child and my adult within, can walk between the worlds and gift others, permission to pioneer their own path, and ease the concerns of others who worry about them.

Emily McCollum

Take a breath.
Remember, we are one.
What’s mine is yours,
always has been, always will be.
Together we’ll listen
to the ancient songs.
We’ll travel through
the inner passageways
collecting wisdom and strength.
We’ll dance through our days
in this life and the next,
as we have since time began.
Layer upon layer
we tread, we discover,
we shed, we acquire.
We collect the threads,
cherished and forgotten
and weave them all
together.

Sharon Handy

I am a heart straight from the cosmos,
tail tied to the North Star.

A constellation of energy,
born of greater constellations.

Connected to the Essence of All.
Energy sinking into matter.

Fiery wild twin delighting
in watery twin’s depth.

Enlightenment informed by grounded-ness.
Insight informed by creativity.

True voice informed by wisdom and power.
All centered in love.

A unique codex,
transcribed before birth, yet evolving.

Every “now” a thin place
twixt Spirit and form.

An embodied dream of the land
dancing on moonlit whitecaps.

Integrated Being-ness
reflecting the beauty of others.

Awake.
Aware.
Alive.

Lisa Williams

THE WAVE
I sit in the centre
Observing
My one eye watches through the veil of the unseen.

I am ancient
The eye of God
Yet I am not God.

The whale of the ancestral mothers
I send out frequencies through the waters
Hearing your cries and concerns for the world.

You only see a small part of what is occurring
Unite, unite
Your heart
Unite, unite
Your love

Send out heart waves as prayers, as hope, as beauty
There is much support wrapping around the earth right now
Unite with others to create the wave.

The wave is coming.

Jenafer Owen

“In the window the moon grew larger, gradually filling the whole pane, forcing all the shadows to recede. And in the unbearable luminosity and she found herself slipping up through the covers floating above herself, her form below rolling to the side, a perfect mirror to her husbands curled shape. Up through the ceiling and into the silent night. Nights are rarely truly silent. It was as if the sound track had been fully deleted. She could feel the beat of her own heart in her chest but the sound of it, a familiar accompaniment to her thoughts, was missing. She remembered something she’d read that day. That there were two chemicals evolved eons ago to allow muscles in insect wings to contract and relax and when one was absent, the wings grow but they cannot flap. And it’s the same two proteins that are responsible for the beating of the human heart. Is it possible that dreams and waking life are like those- causing our soul to flutter and fly she wondered?”

Kyra Siebenschein

In the Zone: When the black fire of the divine feminine – the great mother – is burning in her house, when Logos and Eros communicate in love and deep respect she enters “the Zone” – a place where she is just present. Eyes on, heart open. She feels connected to herself and the universe. Feels life flowing through her body her whole being. And she realizes: in the end all is simply LOVE.

There is tenderness in her face, the tenderness of the feminine. This softness is a power – still suppressed in so many women – ready to wake up.
Her eyes like diamonds – see the essence in everything and everybody. The signs of a new narrativ. She speaks a new language, a language from the heart. It’s a different frequency. Completely different from what we have known for ages. The ancient mothers still know…. She remembers a sentence her teacher told her some years ago: “You don’t know any language spoken on earth, you know only the language of the divine mother…”.
She keeps reading, reading, reading. Reading the new signs…. She is breathing all in – the suffering, the streets of tears, the bliss, the beauty… She feels the fear and the hope, anger and compassion, sadness and resilience, frustration and possibility. No better place, no better time for a new beginning – out of a black background.

Something greater is rising. Something new is wanting to emerge.
Sometimes we have to be a little mad to bring new colors into our painting.
She started with 3 red threads of hope from her heart – threads of prayer……..
May the language of the divine Mother penetrate our ordinary language, so that we together can open a new space – a space free of guilt and shame, fear and anger… A space full of compassion and love and Freudefreude… A place where we all can grow, awaken to the truth of who we are. Amen

Ceri McKervill

Awake and Aware came to play in the ordinary, everyday of the first lonely year.
Seed by seed and leaf by leaf my wild roused.
My garden grew me.
The wildweed whispered.
Dig, plant and clarify with sunshine and water.
Let chlorophyll Unchain your consciousness.
The wildweed sighed, ‘Come, Eat my colours,
Ingest and digest my chlorophyll. Make ready for your inner seeds to speak’
The wildweed mumbled, ‘thirteen moons, thirteen moons’.
The wildweed murmured, listen to the trees. Their wisdom is needed. Paint their message.
My blood stirred gently around the wheel of the year from the Winter solstice to winter solstice, through Imbolc, Beltane, Laughnasa and Samhain.
Then winter tugged on the door to my internal sanctum. A new lonely covid year.
And the trees hummed, ‘Ritual. Thirteen moons. It is time to nurture your secret garden.
Come to the canvas. It is a Thin Place, a portal to the Otherworld.
A veil between worlds.
Ritual will rethread your consciousness.
Ritual will retrieve your wild spirit from the feral protectors of your anguished mind.’
The quiet voice of the trees thrummed in my veins.
Be present.
Stay with Now.
One step at a time.
The journey mapped on my sleeve through the ebb and flow of thirteen moons.
At the last moon an iterative switch. A pivot. A flip.
The weeds and the trees brought me here.
In the Now
Their photosynthesis enables my breath.
The forest is my lifeline, the trees my original mother.
Awake and Aware came to play in the ordinary, everyday.
I feel the ebb and flow of the moon now pushing and pulling my stream of consciousness.
Ritual with paint continues to transform my life.
Paint matters.

Heather Baker

I rounded the corner, and there she was again! Skipping along the track ahead of me, singing away, clearly in a world of her own. Her hair caught the dappled sunlight, and her voice was like music notes dancing in the breeze.

I followed behind her a while – slowly and without much drive (did she have to move so quickly?!); I was so terribly tired and weighed down. She twirled and whirled further ahead, disappearing around another bend.

Oh, how I wanted to see her again – flitting fleeting bright thing that she was – and before I knew it, my step had quickened. I cast aside my heavy thoughts and self-doubt, and my step lightened and ah, how my wings grew!

I reached the bend only to find that she was nowhere in sight. I couldn’t believe it! Where had she gone? My spirit flagged, my knees sagged, my shoulders drooped and my head clouded over. I stood stock still, eyes brimming with tears. I was devastated!

Just then, a whistle filled the air around me. A bird, I thought. I heard it again. Then I knew. There was a loud “Coooooooee!”, then a crashing sound as she burst out of the undergrowth and onto the path ahead of me.

“Catch me if you can!” she chirped at me.

And in that instant, I understood my yearning to follow her. I knew. I recognised The Energy Between Us. It came from each to the other, and it was one and the same. This time, instead of dashing off down the track, she waited, her brown eyes smiling, and I caught up to her. I took her outheld hand in mine, and together we continued our journey.

Marie Baad

She who searches with her eyes
for traces
of a bygone age

That which has been preserved
over the years as a secret.
Searching for her roots

Who is she
and where
did she come from

The fruit of a lifetime’s work
A web of destinies- Our history

She knows that
she is a daughter
of a daughter of daughter
who is a mother
since ancient times
Indigenous Woman

The shadow of a truth
that were never told
for generations

Who Is HE
Who were THEY

The Nameless- an echo of the past,
the strangers in her

The earth trembles
The ground shakes

Lost without a trace
Without a face number or name
Nothing

Like ships that have sailed
and never
reached their port
Wrecked

The shadows of a truth
The same person,
Yet a different one

Feelings about reality and dreams

The wind that blows
The heart that burns
Indigenous Woman

She´s like a strange bird
carrying a sadness in her smile

The forest that is silent but
forgets nothing
The storm that tears
and bridges that burns
around reality and dreams

She finds confidence
and comfort from nature

Her spiritanimals
that guide her
through life

Strength as she walks
barefoot
through the moors

The scents of forests
moss and water

Following the path
to the waterhole

Breathing

Feeling the warmth of the sun
in the summernight

The crackling
of the campfire
The wind
Caressing her cheek

A Feeling of rebirth and transformation

Her subconscious self is she
The symbols of a life
that is hers

They cannot be divided
They are the sum
of The whole

She bows to the eye
of the stone
When she hears
a distant song
Unwavering her
feelings

In her blood
In her bone
In her heart
In her soul
In her head

On all seas in all waves
In the shadow of the symbols
is
Who She is

Deborah Teckoe

A rendezvous with Faith
I am Faith my name is one of belief, it’s one of a devotion to a higher power – a connection that is beyond this realm. It touches you; it fleets sometimes too- but it’s always there – maybe the clouds cover the view some days. But I am you, I am that flutter inside that reminds you to believe. I am a constant flow a source of insight from the land beyond.

I have travelled far and wide into the unseen. it’s called ‘beyond comprehension’.
I have superpowers, unique gifts they lay buried, forgotten but never gone.

You must have faith and belief and these gifts will enter you and give you… New ears for listening, new words for language ….to connect the dots to your feelings.
Your senses will heighten, you can defeat the dragon and the whellers too.
Fear is just an illusion, you have everything inside of you all the resources, you will have everything to tap into.

The paint brush in your hand brush stroke after brush stroke – blending colours together, no time for rationalism – either or but both and the dualistic.
There is no dilemma here, there is only history and myth and the invitation to create your own. The road is filled with challenge, how far you travel depends on how far you journey.
You will always come back to the start, that’s part of the compass’s role, its magnetic pull … to draw you back in.
You will come back with gifts, a higher self, with a truer reality. A navigation system that is heightened and filled with splendour. The paint brush and the pen as your ally your magic wand, creating symbols and metaphors that connect the dots, bringing your wounds and pain and pleasure bringing all parts here now.
The invitation to take a sacred pause, connecting to a new rhythm a new rendezvous. Such delicious feelings and images in suspense. Brush stroke after brush stroke – blending and mixing colours a- new.
Creating the way of the red thread, weaving its tapestry through. Being in suspense Like that of an image that is yet to be formed, that is yet to become, its slowing revealing, and becoming matter like the conscious feminine …. such suspense … not knowing more than where you are right now …
An epiphanic form is emerging deep under the layers.

Brush stroke after brush stroke blending dirt from the earth plain, which describes the rough terrain we sometimes find ourselves in … reclaiming what has been lost, calling it back here now. Standing at the threshold, reclaiming the call of my inner muse…

Tanya Meyer

Cosmic Rebirth – A Return to Self
by Tanya Meyer

She consecrates herself to discover her divinity.
There is a greater mystery to be revealed.
To be reclaimed.
To be healed.

She claims her place among the stars.
Born of ancient Stardust and Light.
A Divine miracle in form.
One with all things, the whole of existence.

She will begin anew from within,
trusting her heart will lead the way.
The wounds of the past no longer lead her astray.

This is a devotion to her.
A deep devotional desire.
To reveal her. To know her.
To ignite her inner fire.

Her illumination brings truth.
The truth of her being.
An opening of consciousness and new ways of seeing.

Her heart longs for the music, the love song that is hers.
The sound of the soul as an individual expression.
She knows she is music, her own unique melody.
Awaiting harmonization with all of creation.

The rhythm of life pulses through her veins,
an earthly cosmic being, here on a mission.
A mission of Love,
of Truth and Compassion.

The umbilical cord of life, made of Stardust and earth,
one with the weave, through all dimensions.
She exists within the tapestry, woven by a divine plan.
Of earth and of stars and of the Rainbow clan.

The time has come for heart-centered evolution.
This is achieved through the process of involution.

She peels back the layers, myths of old times,
like layers of skin built up over time.
As she dives deep inside to heal from within,
she reveals her true colors and forgives her “sins”.

Her diamond light shines as she takes back her crown.
She is divine. She is holy.
Her consciousness is the vine.

She’s in service to the earth and all that exists.
One with all things, in her gnosis comes bliss.
She’s an instrument of love, of peace and compassion,
waiting to express herself, in co-creation.

All of creation awaits her return.
Waiting to respond to the unique frequency that is her.
In harmony with all as one interconnected being.
Unified in love as one interweaving.

A keeper of wisdom,
a bringer of Light,
She shines like a diamond, bright in the night.

Her wings give her freedom, a grand metamorphosis of self.
In revealing her hidden, she returns to herself.
Integrated and embodied as a channel of light,
she is free to be her, she is free to take flight.

A divine path unfolding, it’s only the beginning.
A tapestry of life as the weavers keep spinning.

Clearing the lens, so more light can shine through,
the veil will be lifted as the earth prepares for transition.

Within the great mystery, the journey unfolds.
Her eyes shine bright with tales yet untold.

In her Involution and integration, she becomes her revelation.
Divine in nature.
Here for Transformation.
This is a time of Love and of Regeneration.

Virginia Hampton

The key to my hidden self is within my self.

Virginie Hentzienne

Hold on firmly to your Light, She said
It will always guide you forward
Where you are meant to be.

Your story has many folds.
And sometimes, you may find yourself in the dark
With no light in sight.

That’s when you need to remember
That it is time for you to shine.

Shine your love,
Shine your courage,
Shine your wisdom,
Shine your faith.

There is no other place nor time
To do it with more meaningful presence
Than when the world calls for it
With all its might.

You are the Light holder
And you have no other tasks at hand
Than to dance, sing, pray, comfort, create
And bring to life what the world needs the most
At any given time

And that is your Light
One step at a time.

Nancy Thompson

This was not intended, this departure from her own
Fear was at the ready
but she was not helpless in this foreign vein
Her next steps yet unarticulated,
came from seeds so deeply sown

She called on the mothers and the battle worn crones
They gathered at her side to witness, to hold
to distil, detangle, sift
each pulling miraculous threads woven throughout her soul
Helping to sort through the false, feared, and true

She laid her burden at the foot of the forest
and dug into the earth
Her bones recalled their ancient home and its promise of rebirth

Sweet dark night draped her tenor-toned blanket
With the love of her kin and the land
Baptised by the light of the moon
Between the worms and the rich warm dirt
re-membering ensues

Treasures shrouded and well found
Returning with every tenderness
and every shame set free
With every tear the fertile soul replenished

The promise of creation
The promise of ever change
The promise of intention
Ancient truths hold her and set free her heart
In harmony she is anew

Leni Felton

Red Mountain: To Find the Fire of Life

Where did this journey start? she asked.

When the brush tip touched the canvas and colors spilled out, my mind began unravelling in the stream of my heart.

In the currents, “Beings” surfaced. Salamander, WaterSerpents, Eel, Squid, SophiaBird, Feminine Essence, Red Mountain, and you Fluid Being! My dearest loving friends.

And then?

The SophiaBird Sang: Cues, queries, opening doors along the way.

More?

I entered the canvas, upper octaves, reserved. And then she appeared — my wild twin — cast out, so I could, I thought, survive. She rose under the tail and tutelage of Salamander.

And now?

We are One.

Feel into all those beings: Feel. Breathe. See.

They have been with me since time out of mind. Here, they are guiding me through the world of color and paint.

And what, please, were their messages?

Salamander: Your journey will be a doing and an undoing.

WaterSerpents: To receive, Ask your questions freely.

Eel: You’ll find the Light in the densest darkness.

Squid: Kindness is your way in. It melts your edges and opens space for fire essence and laughter.

Ceremony of Perspectives: The matrix surrounding each viewpoint holds all you have become. Rest here confidently.

Fluid Being: Fluidity is the ultimate backbone.

Feminine Essence: For me to live, protect your passion — it is umbilical!

Red Mountain: A visible flame is Father Fire. The Fire of Life is filled with Light and Space. It houses the colors and passion. Imbibe this “Mother Light.”

You birthed those beings, now they will birth you!

As I turned in that dense darkness my body filled with unbridled energy. My belly swelled: earth, sky, mountains, water — the Mother Light already nests here.

My loving companions and ancestors exhaled in relief.

And what did you do?

I danced!

Annette Wagner

I sink to one knee in the stalks of golden grass. Wolf settles in next to me.
I lean in. Smelling the sky full of intense blue and softly glowing clouds. Feeling the wind sneaking into my clothes. Hearing Wolf snort and grumble a little. I taste the day, the moment, on my tongue. Touching the earth as she reaches out to me.

What is wanted?

I send my question outward to all the small beings around me, the rock spirits, that plant beings, the trees, the sky spirits. I close my eyes and move more fully into that place of great stillness inside of me. Settle. Ground. Observe.

From our perch, we can look across the rolling hills watching for signs. We’re out here contemplating a new journey. That is what we do, Wolf and I, we set inquiry and intention free into the world and then journey to see where it leads us.

This is not my first journey. Wolf and I have a long history of walking unknowable paths. Inquiring and then following the answer. Of wandering into mysteries only to stand in the middle of them like gawking tourists. But then perhaps that is what we are?

Waiting to hear back from the earth and spirit, I absently wind my hands into the grasses and begin to braid them. Images and patterns flow through my mind and soon I have a row of braids in the grasses in front of me.

Wolf chuckles. I give him a stare worthy of unearthing dark secrets and he just chuckles again. I look down at my handiwork and think, oh right, horse’s mane. Hmm.

Virginia Masson

In a tiny cabin sitting in a sliver of sunlight at the edge of a dark wood lives a girl. She is a quiet girl living a quiet life but somehow manages to make her way into many of the gossip sessions happening in the village nearby. The pub owner thinks her blue eyes and silver blond hair are lovely, almost coming to blows with the shopkeeper who insists her eyes are green and hair a strawberry blond. It seems everyone sees her as a reflection of their own desire and she, unaware, carries on with her comings and goings until one fateful day.

Gathering berries for her supper in the early afternoon sunshine her dress caught in the brambles as she leaned into the juicy abundance. Setting her basket down to free herself, she suddenly heard the sweetest sound. Soft and somber, like the song of a mourning dove, it drifted from the dark woods and settled on her ears. Entranced she left her basket to seek the origin.

Peeking out from the thick trunk of a grandmother oak she spied the singer. Was it a woman? The dappled shadows made it hard to tell. The songstress was quite naked, her skin the color of moss, and wore a crown of twigs, decorated with brambles and berries, perched on her shoulders, like brooches on a dress, were a raven and two tiny chickadees!

Who was this wonderous creature, so wild yet so familiar, like the delicious memory of a lush dream.
Slowly stepping from behind the tree she watched the singer complete her song and smiling, lift her hand to beckon the girl forward.
She heard the singer whisper, in a low and deliberate voice, “I SEE you” and, without hesitating, stepped toward her and into the mystery.

Moana Whatu

It was a long while she stood in that place, yet within moments she felt her insides move, as the moon and sun moved, in harmony together. Like the ocean tides and shoreline connected in a rhythmic tandem sway. She felt it – the shift within her. The gaze of her eyes, the focus, the haze that had floated around her head, keeping her beneath the cloak of the mountain clouds, finally lifted; her eyes came into focus. It happened fast when it finally did. She saw the blackbird in all its glorious wisdom, she saw the growth above and below, she recounted the things that had brought her to this point, this place; of initially not knowing, a familiar place of belonging, a call to home. Yet to be free she realized with profound clarity that she had been brought to a place of service, a place guided by a divine power of her own heart and soul. To allow a sweet surrender to the not knowing and allow the Being-ness in this life, barren yet full of life, oh the intriguing paradox of Both And. The greyness of the ground hard rocky places, gave way to life in forms of unusual flowers…gently and softly her soul whispered, remember me?

Darlene Mondloch Zurawski

Being a part of “Ritual: 13 moons” has changed my life and instilled new energy into my creative being. A widow of five months at the onset of the class, traumatized from three years of care giving and overcome by loss, a commitment to a 13 month process opened windows to my future with great possibilities. Day by day, week by week, month by month, and 13 full moons, I experienced a new spirit reviving my being from the inside out. Each time I went to the canvas, I felt calm and healed. The 13 steps of Intentional Creativity are immensely powerful, yet gently woven into the overall process. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to witness the beautiful women who make up Shiloh Sophia’s Red Thread Classroom. Namaste dari Zurawski

Shiloh Sophia