empire

My fingertips and palms are stained beet red. A hodge-podge of fresh food high in alkaline sits on the stove top. The ancient stirring of memory radiates in my cells. And I remember how to just bee - over a flame, mixing herbs, leaves, roots and more, together in a cast iron pot. This is the me I like to feed. A she who needs to feel, taste and smell all of life's aromas - the pungent and the profane. Soon, I will tend to the chicken's coop - it needs fresh newspaper and to bee aired out. They've been busy little hens, laying tasty, fresh eggs since the start of an early spring. And I acknowledge that the way I can show up more in sisterhood and friendship to L. is by helping to organize a fundraiser that will benefit her and her myriad of health bills. She's right - life isn't fair. As for this witch who also needs help, yet is blessed with an abundance of radiant life force and creative energy, she just keeps trusting that by putting one foot in front of the other and staying true to her heart, she'll get where she is going - to an empire that benefits all of US.