The Cracked Cauldron

The rain falls softly tonite, almost sizzling on the roof, the heat from the day's sun still emanating from the hot tin.  All around her and up the side of the mountain the fireflies dance in a sort of light enhanced airy wonder.  The beauty of this place, this land, is never lost on her.  The wildness of what lurks beyond the tree line deep in the forest . Beautiful, wild and dangerous.

In the light wind there is a hint of sweetness, blowing over from the blueberry fields, ripe with their harvest, as her eyes scan the familiar darkness around her she knows just as everything seems the same, the wind tells another story, one of change, things that can never be taken back.  The gift of sight leaves little doubt.

Bare feet in the grass as the soft rain covers her long hair.  Where once there was dark, even that has been changed with the eruption of white from her temples, although welcome change it is still change...something she has never been quite comfortable with.  As her hands touch the familiar black cauldron, the energies of many other days come cascading through her heart and mind.  Some of her teachings passed down in moments of lucidity from her mother, others in dreams from the ancestors and spirits who accompany her on this walk.  The way has not always been crystal clear, but it has always been constant.

Each piece of dried wood placed under it with care, each on a thought and a place, the faces of those that have come before flash in her mind.  Sadness engulfs her as she lights the match.  The Ancestors gather around, their energy fuels and the fire roars to life.

"Candle and bone, wine and water....." and her thoughts trail off.....the sadness is back, but then it always is, when it is time to seek the cauldron.....the sight offers little room for the unknown or mistakes, the ancestors and spirit fills in the rest of the holes in the picture.

She accepts them all as they come, opens her heart and arms as she lets them in.  Each given a clean slate and a fresh  beginning, love is given freely....

"into the cauldron, the herbs they go, a gift of silver to help it flow.....round and round,
hands entwined, through the ages of time,
open the eyes of the blind.....I play no games, nor do I lie
I will feed you willingly but it is your choice on how and why...."

choose wisely, for these are life changing decisions.....

"Cauldron burn and bubble"

The rain stopped but the wet of her hair told another tale, the edges of her dress damp it clung to her in the dark, her skin on fire, alive with the glow, as she glances back at the house, the light in the bedroom comes on, and it is time.  Silently she sails through the back door, and glides to the room that is now dark, she slips off her wet gown and snuggles into her bed.

His arm comes across her and he asks "where were you?' as he runs his hand through her wet hair...."out back dear, taking out the trash...." and all is well in their hearts......

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