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Stories from the Cauldron: November 2014
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Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Wednesday, November 19, 2014. Cooking is a sacred act. I have not cooked for anyone in years. I have been a woman excommunicated,. Exiled from my own humanity. No one breaks bread at this table,. No one sleeps in this bed,. No one wakes to roses,. And the scent of cinnamon,. In a bowl on the kitchen table. No one showers while I drink coffee on Sunday morning. This body, my body,. Is broken like bread,.
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Stories from the Cauldron: June 2014
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Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Sunday, June 15, 2014. My Lady sails through silver sky,. Her pale skin, a shade of light,. She glows in brilliant radiance, my lover faire. With gentle grace she wanders through the night,. Her gossamer gown flows ‘round about her feet,. Her footsteps leaving stardust in her path. She sings with laughter, starlight song,. Her voice, a gentle shining mist,. Her soft touch, cool as evening aire,.
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Stories from the Cauldron: Blooming...
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2014/12/blooming.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Sunday, December 28, 2014. What is this flower blooming,. Opening inside of me? Each velvet petal unfolding,. Each unfolding and opening,. One by one,. Exposing the velvet color. Of the space inside. Trying to open enough,. To empty itself,. To make enough space,. So you will stay,. And fill it with your scent,. And the sound of your breathing,. Your laughter and your voice,. With the warmth of your body,.
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Stories from the Cauldron: Sacraments
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2014/11/sacraments.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Wednesday, November 19, 2014. Cooking is a sacred act. I have not cooked for anyone in years. I have been a woman excommunicated,. Exiled from my own humanity. No one breaks bread at this table,. No one sleeps in this bed,. No one wakes to roses,. And the scent of cinnamon,. In a bowl on the kitchen table. No one showers while I drink coffee on Sunday morning. This body, my body,. Is broken like bread,.
storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com
Stories from the Cauldron: Oh Holy Night revised
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2014/12/oh-holy-night-revised_23.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Tuesday, December 23, 2014. Oh Holy Night revised. Oh Holy Night…revised to reflect my hope for this world…. Oh Holy night, the stars are brightly shining,. Is this the night Love’s Light shall return? Long lay the world in grief and darkness pining,. Til Light appears and the soul knows its worth. A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn’. I am a witch, a mo...
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Stories from the Cauldron: April 2015
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2015_04_01_archive.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Sunday, April 12, 2015. My body betrayed me…. Balance an elusive sprite…. Smoke, rain and fresh cool wind danced in erratic ecstasy…. Panic blossomed within my belly…. I went to ground. I knelt upon the Mother,. My hands in Her dark soil…. Sent roots into Her depths,. Entwined them around strong solid stone. Laid my body down upon Her,. Touched Her creatures,. Shadow rose up within me,. Links to this post.
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Stories from the Cauldron: May 2014
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2014_05_01_archive.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Wednesday, May 28, 2014. To the Queen of the Abyss…. Once upon a time, you were brilliant and beautiful. Full of power and blessed with privilege,. You danced upon the stage of life,. Full-glorious in the light, admired by all. Desiring all that you could see,. All that you desired was yours. Vain and entitled, life was a game and you,. The Queen, reveling in your mastery of it,. Did you know it then?
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Stories from the Cauldron: December 2014
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2014_12_01_archive.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Sunday, December 28, 2014. What is this flower blooming,. Opening inside of me? Each velvet petal unfolding,. Each unfolding and opening,. One by one,. Exposing the velvet color. Of the space inside. Trying to open enough,. To empty itself,. To make enough space,. So you will stay,. And fill it with your scent,. And the sound of your breathing,. Your laughter and your voice,. With the warmth of your body,.
storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com
Stories from the Cauldron: December 2013
http://storiesfromthecauldron.blogspot.com/2013_12_01_archive.html
Stories from the Cauldron. Stories and Poems from the Cauldron of Inspiration by Diane Awenydd-Evans. Tuesday, December 24, 2013. Sleeping deep within the Mother. You walk the dream-time. In the forest of the otherworlds. Wisdom-stones beneath your feet. In silence and power. Instinct mingles with intuition. Finding truth and emerging into new light. Links to this post. Your shadow passes silently over me,. Hiding me from the light and warmth of the sun. Until the dark and shifting clouds hide you from me.