Despite the pouring rain, the garden has been full of birds today, primarily blackbirds. They are out in force, braving the weather to get the food they need, to keep themselves fit for the future and the cold months ahead.
I hope we are like the blackbirds. I hope we are out in force, making the changes we need so we can remain fit in the future. Fed. Warm. Finishing work before we die. Healthy without being bankrupt. Well educated- or at least with the choice to be.
Let us stretch our wings and brave the weather. It’s going to get cold, so wrap up warm, ask a neighbour for help, help a neighbour if you can, watch out for treacherous pathways and busy traffic; watch out for each other. Let’s get out there as a community and vote.
I won’t tell you who to vote for. I just hope that you can vote with the most vulnerable in mind. The Conservative manifesto promises to cut funding for children with learning disabilities and autism within four years, plus there’s no money in the first year to support parental leave or childcare. Families will suffer. The promises to the NHS are warped and twisted and don’t cover the cuts already made. And if leaving Europe is your main agenda, if it hasn’t happened by now, I struggle to see how the incumbent party can make it happen. To be clear, I don’t want to leave Europe. I believe we are stronger together, building local, national and global communities on a foundation of compassionate and kindness, to each other and the environment around us.
The blackbirds sing noisily, backing up Damh the Bard and his Sons and Daughters of Robin Hood. This song reminds us of our power, that we hold the key to who remains in power.
If you think that we would do nothing, you’ve misunderstood…
I truly hope that today, together, we do something. Make a change. Vote for a cleaner world, a kinder world, a world where more people have opportunities. A world where gender and sexuality and race and religion and ability aren’t used as tools to divide and isolate people.
The blackbird is the gatekeeper of dawn and dusk, the bird of transition. They indicate change, transformation, and liminality. As they sing now, my heart dips then soars and tears fill my eyes as my anxiety batters me but hope flutters ceaselessly. This is a liminal time indeed. May the blackbirds be an omen of change for the better.
I’m very excited to announce that The Pagan Federation Anthology of Pagan Poetry (Volume 1) has been published and is available to buy on Amazon.
I have two poems in the anthology, plus there’s poetry from Dan Coultas (who brought the anthology together), Eleanor Rose, Krystal Holmes, Jenny Luddington, and The Bee- plus loads more amazing pagan poets.
All proceeds from the book go to fund the Pagan Federation, the organisation supporting the rights of Pagans right across the U.K.
…But some of these fruits and vegetables
Are still good
A little soft
A little wobbly
A little less sweet
Just add some sugar
And soak it in
Let the sharp bubbles
Read the rest on my Patreon, available for all paying tiers from £1/$1 a month.
…I tip my head and a golden god
Pours amber over my face and neck
Apple-light and pebble smooth
Like the stones beneath my feet…
A snippet of a poem written for an upcoming project, I can’t say much right now but it’s very exciting!
Your husband can’t get out of the house because things keep randomly falling over, mostly on him.
Stuff keeps disappearing and then turning up in odd places.
You go into a room and something scuttles away into the corners, My Neighbor Totoro style.
You mournfully wish our loud that your lost slipper would appear and it does, where you already checked, several times.
The volume on the telly seemed to shoot up for no apparent reason.
The spirit world is supposedly closer at this time of year- we’re certainly feeling it today!
Enjoy today, however you’re celebrating.
Stepping back into my kitchen
Which smells of
A potato heavy
That does surprisingly little
To soak up
Two shots of whiskey
And a glass of homemade
Step out again,
Wobble around the house
Check for the moon
Check for the fox
What does it say
Only the shrill wheeze
Of my own breath.