Last night we had a bonfire in our back yard,
which once again, made patently clear the
pure magick of fire. I wasn't in the best place
when we went out there. There was some chat,
but per se, we simply stared into the fire. From
time to time, more wood was gathered, added;
sparks flying up and out. The darker it got, the
more I was able to sink my soul into the healing
flames. As the evening progressed, noise stilled
and night sounds became more vibrant. A rustling
in the grass, wind picking up a tad, the chirp of
cicadas . . . all as if conspiring to bring the gift
of peace to my troubled soul.
fire to still my soul
lady brighid come to me
peace and rest at last
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