I thought I had lost you muse.
I thought I had left you behind for the To Do list and the I-Need-to-Achieve-this-because-others-already-have list.
I thought I had forgotten the way you tickle at my heart
and whisper in my ear the poetry of the simple moments, the big songs, the aching times.
you found me.
You fought through my fear.
You cut away the things that held me back.
You rescued me and you calmed my quivering disbelief.
You found me in the tears, in the quiet, in the stillness
that I thought was absence.
I am found.
I am found.
Awake and alive, my soul sings words that connect me back,
back to the times where the possibility of creation
It wasn't a project,
or a goal,
or a statement of anything more than:
here I am right now. Here we are right now.
I am led and revealed.
I am the muse.
I am beginning and ending, and starting anew and starting from the places I know.
It began with a promise to seek you out - to know you completely.
To know myself completely.
To know the beauty that arises when we're not looking.
We're being found.
Again and again.
"Forged in Flame: Creating a Reclaiming Beltane Ritual" - Creating Ritual issue of Witches and Pagans