When the Gods Speak
I was wearing my cool black lace dress with no chonies on and could feel the breeze on my thighs. I was in a dark wood, the full moon was out, the forest was inky though from all the overhead growth blocking the sheen of the moon. There wasn't much undergrowth, just loamy soil, the occasional shrub or small tree, and the normal fallen rotting logs. I could see a glow up ahead, and I could feel my totem whuffing through the trees over me. This told me I was on business. I'm walking towards what looks like a bonfire up ahead. The dress not catching on branches or bark, which was strange, it seemed the forest was making way for me. I was barefoot, feeling the pine needles and soil underfoot, the occasional beetle skittering from my naked toes. Time slowed, I walked for seeming hours in this peaceful, alive place. Absorbing the stillness of growth there.
The bonfire grew nearer, and I saw Grandmother, standing, watching me approach. I got close to her and we embraced. Not hugged. Being held by her, the rush of emotion in my heart, to KNOW that she cared that much for me. She would hold me like that, and run her hands down my hair, then backed off and hold my cheeks while looking into my eyes. I get teary thinking about it.
She took my hand, and it was amazing, I think I could feel the very brownness of her skin, the wrinkles in her flesh. Each standing out on my nerve ends strongly. We sat by the fire, and she talked to me, as a therapist, as a healer. I wept, bawled, howled, snotted. It felt marvelous. I was a sword passed through fire. Re-forged. All the pain is still there, but it's not a pustulent wound anymore. or I don't think it is...teary again | 
