Deep in your womb lives a spiral, goddess. It is the subtle movement of memory where love made its first impression on your inner maiden. It is the curling rhythm of liquid life in the cauldron, moving through the thickness of years inwards towards understanding. This space is held sacred in universal memory as the goddess temple, when the shadows of sisters were dancing silhouettes against flame lit walls. The shedding of fragmented feeling falls away as the eroding walls of the oceanic cave. Each inspection revealing thrusts of mighty waves where memory is held like treasure in the dark of the dragon’s lair.
Deep in the spiral, sounds of chanting move in motion with hands held and wisdom interspersed with decided safety. Yes, you are safe now. The hissing her-story haunting is somehow elevating with each imprint your foot makes on the awakening Earth. The walk grows into powerful stomping as you dance deeper into the footsteps of the women who came before you, and the you that came before you. Each determined penetration quakes with ripples and cracks while your arms stretch high and the trance of violet rapture envelopes you.
Within the spiral is another spiral still, moving outward with each re-birthing. Your wild screams tear open the infected patchwork with remedial intention. In the suns glare you aim fearlessly at the sky and it circles up through the cone of power like lightning into plentiful rain on all of creation. You are purifying by nature.
See it still in the center of your stolen fruit and natures crimson tears. There is great power in remembering. It is hidden in the abstract splatter of tea leaves and in the heart of trees. It reveals itself in the eye of the erect flower and the perpetual longing of the breeze. It is the power of three by three. It is the nine-fold sisterhood. It is the tornado and the whirlpool, the fountain of youth, the destruction and the creation.
Deep in your chalice lives a spiral, goddess. The sacred waters which nourish you and ease with a cleansing caress, the mourning of violated trust. Each spot is marked by the light of gracious lanterns though murky the mud may seem to be, though strong the quicksand may seem to feel. The path is before you and within you. Once you have begun to walk the spiral, it is a love like the meeting of life and death. It is a world between worlds where you and your sisters howl in erratic harmony, the watchtowers sheltering you as the four of wands. It is a time to celebrate, and there is great work to do still.
You may find freedom in the dance, all consuming as it may be. You may find that it is unending and still so forgiving. There is great fulfillment in forgiveness, goddess and this the spiral will show you. Each fragment of rock reveals a unique crystallized form as you breathe fire on it. Diamond, Emerald, Amethyst, Sapphire, Ruby… Adorn yourself with these precious jewels for your work is absolutely to be celebrated. You are growing treasure like the world has never seen and you deserve to sparkle with its evidence.
Thank you for being the hypnotic heroine, bold enough to dance the sacred spiral of life, and birth its beauty out into the world. This is a reclamation of the Goddess. This is the witches spiral.