Musings of a Massachusetts Witch


This is noon time, this is mine, tranquility –

The sound of the gong,

An echo, intelligent note

Caressing with the wisdom

Of what psychic visions will appear in my mind.

I hold her in my arms.

It is happiness.

The full tone saturates my brain.

Her small arms encircle my neck.

It is in this place where I encounter,

This astral meadow that seems to breathe

And allows us to meet

Another time

And space again – chakra glows in my chest.

One emotional tear makes her real.

At first my mind will not comprehend

It rebels against concepts told not real, illogical.

I hold my breath so she will remain,

Unconceived infant,

Young and beautiful. Chestnut hair

Tied back. She beams at me.

Her smile initiates my tears.

Fingers graze my cheek like a butterfly

Across the face of flowers, sunny yellow,

While her blue eyes

Search, wisdom of All held within.

Alerting time is over with the beep

That keeps my spirit engaged

On this physical plane. Pulling me back, back!

She is of us, young daughter

Born of love, she remains

Apart yet joined by Divine,

To me, to him.

Ethereal cords. Of love of light.

Manifesting when the time is right.