Last night the rains came and washed away the heat and dust.
Even with all of the pain and sorrow, spring rain brings hope and renewal.
There is something about the soft-pink, bouncing flowers of Erica Fairy Bells that make me think of love and sweetness, and the romantic countryside. As dark and poisonous as I am, there is whimsy and lightness in working with the flower spirits.
I offer these sweet, tinkling flowers to Hathor.
“He loved her and she loved him
His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she sucked
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered into the curtains”
-Ted Hughes- Lovesong
I bind love and sweetness into feather and string, white and red, duck and goose. My heart is laid bare,and I tingle with the softness of Hathor’s kiss- passion can be tender, and love can burn.
I burn cinnamon and clove, rose and vanilla. My heart flutters and beats deeply like a bird beating its wings before flight. These are not love spells but soft kisses on Hathor’s feet.
“Great uncharted sea
We have set sail upon
Guided by Venus
And we long to be deep
And we long to be free
And we long to behold what we know
Is so sacred between us
Hope carries us through
You may feel I’m far away
But I am right next to you
Great uncharted sea
Teach us to love
To love and be free”
– Guided By Venus- Wendy Rule
For so long I have been disturbed by the idea of romance, by touch, by true nakedness- I had even become somewhat cynical about it all, feeling like I had let Hathor down. I stepped away from Her altar, stepped away from my erotic self. It took a storm blasting my tower to its foundations for me to realise what I was destroying in the process. Hathor is a lady of nurturance and deepest foundations of love, it is for me to rebuild and nurture my relationships, with the spirits, with myself, with my love.
“Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Lathe of Heaven