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©2019-2020 by Lara Vesta 

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March 19, 2017

 Today, at this hour, my sisters gather in ritual beneath a cool March sun.


I write, because I cannot join them.  Today I am aching, my body slow, my mind with separations between its thoughts.  Any moment, I will bleed.  I checked with the spirits and they said no.  They say no a lot these days.  So I stay home.  Again and again, I let go.


Tomorrow morning at the equinox time a letter will be published on this blog, one I sent to many friends and family members to share with them the whys and hows of my disappearance over this winter.


Today I bend to the light.  I will stretch and walk.  I will pray in my separateness for healing.


I've been working on updating the website bit by bit over months and then yesterday it spontaneously published itself.  Or rather, spirit says enough hiding.  That is what the snakes on my arms are for:  no more hiding under a schism of normalcy.  So I write now, to make it clear:  I will no longer be hidden, silent, confined, chained.


I write.  That is freedom.  A bit, regained.


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