Mud-Wise

Feeling too messy to come out?

What if this time, you e m b r a c e d it

Rolled in the mudbath of the moment's

Majesty

Sunk into your skin and mucked about

Let Her have Her Way with

Your perfection, idealism

and your crippling doubt

Let the Mess shake you

from your tower

Shine into the cracks

- the whole way through-

Let the Mess

Beckon you with her music

Her sacred outcry

Her haunting tune

May you embrace

a closer dance with Gaia

Writhe surrendered

To her wanton groove

Sing her song of Aliveness

Let her simply s h a k e you

From what you thought you knew

Taste more fully, the sweetness

of your Hunger

Savour whatever is

Finally -messy enough-

to come through

May Truth dance wildly

like flames, devouring

What caused you

To abandon you

Acceptance blazes in your iris

Casting out shadows

that used to enslave you

Stomp fervently as sparks fly

from the dead wood of shame

that kept you hidden from View

May you dance from the belly

of Enoughness

Until She consumes

your every excuse

Let her leave you there,

breathless in your Bounty

Bestilled by your own

Living proof

Dear wild one,

What is happening to you is

happening for you

Through you (and as you)

On repeat until

Enoughness is your

Every living truth

Look in the mirror and say

"Mess, your Majesty,

How the ashes

of Authenticity

Really do become you!"

Now, take a walk with your wildness

Beloved,

Like Coyotes under the moon

Test your new instincts

In step with Courage,

Find home in the unknown, too

You are steadfast

in your Completion

You cannot be pulled

or Torn or Used

Step simply in your own Honour

Find in trust, community will rise

However seemingly wayward,

Whatever cloth -or tail- or size

They will meet you for a moment

Or a lifetime

No need to pre-emptively surmise

Trust this, though, beloved

You belong here amongst the mud-wise

You are love, now more

Fully remembered

The path home, next

YOU will guide

Having been lost and then

Deeply found again

For this is exactly why:

Our bones of this world

Are borrowed

Our words, a powerful spell

Your energy is a gift of

Majestic Mess

We've been Given

To give back, Well

-Aeryana Castley