One day I hope to be a spectacular crone. Where wisdom will be the shape of my heart and the Ancestor drum the beating of my heart. I hope to pass my wisdom to my children, just like my mom did with me. I hope they know the earth is our pharmacist, the Stars our guides and the magick is nature. I live a simple life, my nails either have herbs or wax in them, my hair smells of earth, and I stay private. You may see me in interviews or articles, but don’t confuse what I do for a living for who I am.
One day I hope as the gray adorns my hair, and the wrinkles kiss my face, I hope to tell stories of this time... on how I dedicated my life to energy and healing, on how I showed people that witches aren’t evil, but helpful.
One day as my bod grows achy, I hope my name is whispered in lips as a memory of a great teacher.
As for right now, I will continue this journey. This one woman shop, on my own, as it has been, as it should be.
I am at such an amazing place. Comfortable in my weirdness. Whispering I’m a witch to the moon, dancing in the woods, and a loner, just as always, just as it should be.
I don’t aim for riches of numbers, but riches of wisdom.
I am silly, I am down to earth, but don’t confuse that with my knowledge. Ive earned it. This has been a lifetime. A journey. This is who I am. And nothing, and no one can take those delicious words away from my lips. I am mother, I am maiden, I am Crone.
Happy Sunday lovers