The Cauldron
By divacarla
My breath like turbulent eddies of water
scours the round emptiness of me
churning up a tangle of pleasure and grief.
How surprising that grief and pleasure blend like this.
I breathe, entranced by sensation through sleepless hours
till my cauldron is scoured clean and empty.
The Blue Moon fills me with light I can’t see.
By divacarla
My breath like turbulent eddies of water
scours the round emptiness of me
churning up a tangle of pleasure and grief.
How surprising that grief and pleasure blend like this.
I breathe, entranced by sensation through sleepless hours
till my cauldron is scoured clean and empty.
The Blue Moon fills me with light I can’t see.
This is my vessel of Alchemy.
Moon Dreaming, from Summer Solstice 2005, is a counterpoint to the powerful cold Blue Moon of New Year, 2010.
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