Drops of Gold

originally published in Imramma Magazine 6/14/15 Summer Solstice edition

I’m waiting for Litha and the Mead Moon as I write this. Let’s get this Holly King over Oak King over with so I can have my favourite 6 months of the year back, ok. It’s hard to feel inspired in summer. I just relish thinking about Fall.

It’s like coming home for me. Coming into the real me, the crone. Crone of power,  crone of withstanding all trials and tribulations this world can throw,  coming at you from all directions, yet trying to stay sane. It is not a job for the trepid. Only the tried and tested methods employed over time prevail. You try to access that mental workbook at any given time and yet in the Fall somehow, the crone speaks louder for me. She has become the conduit for knowledge, that she has also saved away. Her book of shadows would be amazing reading, I imagine.

I ask the Crone for inspiration now. She answers,”dive deep and gather wisdom child, we will be upon the listening time soon enough. When wisdom is in each falling leaf and the colours of burnt umber, oranges and reds enchant. The kingdom of apple and pumpkin awaits, be brave and sustain till then. Your heart ever lit with a vision of what is yet to come, when the coolness takes over and mystic fog in the mornings awakens your imaginings and creative muse . Be free. Be the blackbird that caws wisdom for the ages. Who waits on the fringes and energetically goes about it’s day.”

It’s funny, I notice them more in Fall than any other time of the year.  They must hate Summer and it’s heat too. Why do I see so many in Autumn, flocks of them?  They are like covens gathering to me. Like crones, they become messengers that provide that spark to those alert to the hidden that shows itself only at Fall. They come out when they’re good and ready and now is not their time I notice. The time between the veils, between light and dark, hot and cold, now and then and whats to come. They feed my soul.  Just now a hummingbird is at my feeder and I realize each bird has their season. The birds under my tree, too, are so hungry for my seeds and there are 7 or more out there. Sparrows, morning doves, red heads, I realize Summer brings inspiration and friends too, if you take the time to notice.

I do a reading with Lunaea Weatherstone’s Wicca Oracle Cards  and get number 17, the oak tree, nature. I love trees, they have wisdom too.  Like the huge tree outside my balcony. I have a tree man hanging on the door. A face in a tree of twigs and greenery. He is the summer forest in full bloom. He’s become my totem spirit, my Oak king. King of trees, stability, strength, patience. Lunaea wrote “Oak sinks its roots deep, while branches reach for the stars. Slow down and allow time for deepening is the lesson. Our world changes rapidly but the oak endures. Give more attention to the truly important things in your life and let the trivial drop. Don’t worry or stress over small stuff or waste time with petty drama. Let go of urgency, you have plenty of time.”

I think the inspiration of Oak will hold me until the time of Crone for now.

 

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