The Birth (of me)

I lay curled in the roots of the elder tree

Waiting to be Reborn

I am a babe in the womb

Incubating, waiting, getting ready

To slide into the light again.

The birthing pains are real

Limbs aching

Stretching and reaching into the void

I am too big for this body

I cannot be contained

Vast are my heart and love

Why am I so afraid?

The shedding of old ways and understandings

Like autumnal leaves

Fall to the ground

They wither, crumble and die

And feed the new roots of the tree.

There is a stirring, the sap starts rising

The tree limbs extend towards the sky

The crone is coming

With her knowledge, her wisdom

Tuned to the rhythms and cycles of Gaia

She arrives in her own time.

The new buds are forming

The spring leaves unfurl

Into the glorious rays of dawn

This is a new time

The Golden Age

It is the age of ME.