Of How I Bit Back

“Death doesn’t frighten me. It’s what comes after. [Besides, some of my best friends are dead, and they hunger for stories].” ~ Terry Pratchett [and me]

 

My world remains full
of what you left me—bones
on my altar, books and stones,
the calaveras that grinned on my handfasting
cake (you weren’t here for that)

I miss you…

There are new things
on my altar and living—hearts
from friends, a bird skull
whose flesh and feathers fly
to you (its grin and bone
stay with me)

I miss you…

Newest, on my altar, wild offerings
for you—peanuts and (not so shiny) metal gifts
from a blue jay, leaves and petals and lavender
and rosemary from a witch made of gentle fire,
a shot of spirits (I will never forget)

I miss you…

The world remains full of what you left me, but
there are new things on my altar and living—
life bit, bit, bit… chunks out of my chest, but
I’m fighting, fighting, fighting back…

next year, when The Veil thins
again, when Soul and Flesh get to glimpse
into each other’s mirrors, I’ll share new
stories, Little Brother, of how I bit back,
of how I won, of how I’ll always remember

I miss you…

 

the wee notes…
– last night, I spent a considerable amount of time cleaning the altar where I keep my Little Brother’s ashes, listening to his favorite music, speaking the tales of everything of importance (or trivial but humorous) that has happened to me this year. It’s how I’ve celebrated the life of my Dead for as long as I can remember, how I will add to their memory for a long as I breathe.

 

Old and Young, I Dance

When my bones were new and my soul already old, my laundromat was a river. On Saturdays, we scrubbed grime from fabric until fingers bled clean. We smacked tough stains against stones, laid our garbs to be kissed by the sun, while the river cleansed fatigue and sweat from our flesh.

When my thoughts were young and my mind still old, the river was Gaia’s milk, her tears, her blood. On the Winter Solstice, we sat on the west side of the riverbank with the dying Sun… We faced east, waiting for the Sun to be reborn. From across the river, sunlight kissed treetops and skin.

I am far away from my river, my laundromat, her milk, her tears, her blood. My bones and thoughts are nearly as old as my soul. The Sun still dies and will again be reborn. On the Winter Solstice, I stand on the west side of my terrace with the dying Sun… I face east, waiting for the Sun to be reborn. From across the street, sunlight kisses treetops and skin. Shiny eyes soak in the new warmth, breathe in the world, smile, and close—I am dancing by the riverbank… I’m young, I am old, I’m young…

in the dark,
winter births the sun
and all life

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the wee notes…
The Twiglet #3 (“from across the room”)
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform
* If you are here for The Twiglet or The Garden, then you are already done. If not, read on…
.

Tomorrow, the Northern Hemisphere welcomes the Winter Solstice. Yep, my Wicked Luvs, the baby Sun (a bunch of fantastic people) and I will be celebrating the shortest day of the year. Well, I’m actually celebrating that the days will get longer (but don’t you tell the dark I said that… I’ve heard Lady Darkness can hold a grudge). Anyhoo, I always welcome the reborn Sun with something yellow and yummy—usually an orange. But it’s freaking cold outside. So this year, I’m opting for soup.

Roasted Kabocha Soup

Ingredients:
– 1½ cups of roasted kabocha squash, cubed
– 1½ cups of water
– 1 teaspoon of coconut oil
– 2 tablespoons of pecans, crushed and roasted
– Ground cumin, dill, salt

Preparation (about 45 minutes/239 calories):
– Preheat oven to 375°F. Coat the kabocha with the coconut oil, place on a baking sheet (lined with parchment or foil). Bake until the squash is a bit browned and soft (about 28 minutes). Let the squash cool a bit, then remove the peel from the flesh. Set the (yummy crunchy) peel aside.

Add the water, cumin, dill and salt to saucepan. When it comes to a boil, add the squash. Simmer on low for 5 minutes or so. Let it cool for a bit, blend, and yum-yum!
Roasted Kabocha Squash Soup

While the squash cools a bit, chop the peel and mix with the pecan. It makes a delicious snack.
Kabocha Squash Peel and Pecans

Or, if you are feeling wild—I often do—add the mix to the soup.
Roasted Kabocha Soup with Pecan

Happiest Winter Solstice, my Luvs.