#wordwitch

the tub was clean, filled with honey-color water dyed by an cotton sachet  hung carefully over the side. I had come to be one  of her witnesses. In the bath

naked, I hugged my knees  afraid I would decompose. My grip loosened as she  crafted a state of sacredness made by the heavy work  of her ritual. She washed me 

from her great cauldron mixing ash and thistle, charcoal and chanting; a rhythmic silence breaker beside the drops  from her sponge. She was ecstasy

in her healing, seeing past my body. I eyed the candle wax drippings on the stone floor and wondered how time wouldn’t tell  of her survival. She cast me

a glint of her bronze necklace, indicating something magical had happened here. A boundary broken, perhaps, or the birth of her legacy. She whispered 

When you’re ready, pull the plug

I wonder if you could ever hear the stillness of my waves- calm settled into bones that called out to the sea.

But you were torn, ripped and thrown with force by each seismic punch of my love, I was the force of nature that soaked you through~ that broke and bruised.

I was the storm. I was the devestation in the wake of tsunami.

And now you know- you should never have fallen for me.

https://www.tiktok.com/@ministerpeacefulpoet1/video/7059045722502548782?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id7048920071008192005

Let There Be A New Season

When the black is blacker than black and the white is whiter than white Nothing is gray We all pay and I pray This ends today The multi colored rainbow knows This is the light Together it goes A promise for ever The world will flood never In the darkness stars shine bright In the daylight there is shade Shadows to protect us from a bright sun light We say it is good We say it is right When they come together Morning and evening Orange and crimson It is then we pause To see reason The time has come It is now the season We ignore leaders Who are dividers and deceivers and be believers of the weavers To be seers and not blinders