the winter came and went, though the words have felt as though they have been underneath a frosted layer not quite yet warmed from the sun. today the wind is strong. it quickly shuffles the clouds along and i watch as sharpened shadow shifts into muted grey and back again. and a quick burst of wind felled my mirror that i kept outside by my little lemon tree and potted black sage - leaving a trailing fault line dividing the mirror into two hemispheres. i both grieve this crack in the mirror and am in awe with what it reveals.
i did not intend to have this length of time stretch from my last post here, for the words are indeed brewing and tumbling and rumbling around inside so much it makes my muscles restless. my partner and i had to move suddenly, the owner of our rented house decided to sell and we found ourselves in a fury of needing to find our next home. we moved into our new home and have returned to the sight of dancing redwoods shimmying outside the windows. my dinners are spent letting my eyes soften on their leaves and limbs - the sways and shifts like moving currents to my eyes. the ebbs and flows of their waves move through me with each bite i take and i am once again taught how to be both strong and soft.
and now, it is spring. i infuse water with oat straw, red clover, dried orange peel, violet leaf. i put my seedlings in the sun outside. since moving, i find myself baking more and knitting more. and tucked away inside this home encircled by rosemary and lavender, i feel my great grandmother’s hands through my hands with each knit and purl, with each stir of my wooden spoon, with each measure of flour and water, with each sprig of thyme i pluck to add to my honeyed ricotta and pear toast.
the many moments of magic might be missed if one is not looking. the sometimes subtle signs of connection that weaves my tender tendrils into the tapestry of other tender tendrils. that which breathes my voice into the symphony that came before, the symphony that is, and the symphony that will be.
i am still shaking off the underworld that was this winter. still processing my trip to India, those experiences fermenting and bubbling and stirring. the words will come when it is time to share. for now i have been focusing on healing my body. on growing my roots into this land i now find myself on. though this time there is a feeling of airiness in my root expansion. i feel my body both grounded in presence and light in spaciousness. breathing into the parts of my body that ached in stiffness. though the pain is still there, i now move my limbs with intention and stretch the confines of these edges. and i feel as the pain also slowly thaws.
the poem that i share today was written this morning. the mid spring sun touching its warm palm to the layer of frost, and the wind stirring these words around in the air long enough for me to witness, to hold, and now let go. there is both a lightness and a heaviness that is stirring in the micro and macrocosm. and i hold them both as i peer to witness the magic that lies abundant to the naked eye for those who wish to see.
a spring offering to you: find a sweet blossom to tickle your nose. inhale gently their fumes, allowing the blossom to inhale you. find presence in the scent and bear witness to the alchemical exchange of grace and honoring taking place between you and flower.
when the hard shell of the world approaches i remember the flowers i let the tender petals kiss my body and the soft dirt embrace my curves i sink my fingers into the warm loam letting it collect underneath my finger nails i water the roots with tears of joy and tears of grief the hardened clay i loosen like the stretching of stiff joints breathing my wind into those tight clenched spaces and when the darkened cloud passes to obstruct the sun i stand with open palms the water of mine blending with the water of yours the collective sorrow showering seedlings of what will be and i touch the taste of change to my lips when words do not come i put seeds into earth with trembling fingertips with only the sound of prayers collaborating with the elements - katie shakira
mutual aid share: The Sanabel Team - a community led project providing aid to the families affected by the genocide happening right now in Gaza. find out more and how to support here
song share: i bled with the full moon this week and baking chocolate sourdough everything, and this wind has me shaking off some stagnant energy. so here’s a song for you to throw on and to help shake off the wintered debris of what was. enjoy.
when saturn returned
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thank you thank you from my deepest and most tender tendrils to everyone who has already ordered my book when saturn returned ~ my heart is so full. it has been such a surreal experience seeing this creation land softly into other people’s hands and homes. an actual dream come true!
send me an email or message if you would like to order my book when saturn returned [go here to see my previous post to find more details about the book]
what’s inside:
59 entries of poetry/prose
59 high-quality scans of film photographs
an astrological natal chart for each piece with the transiting sun, moon, and Saturn that correspond to when that particular piece was written
my heart <3
to order when saturn returned:
$20 plus shipping (no shipping cost if you are in the Santa Cruz area and would prefer local pick-up)
email or message me to order and/OR venmo $20 to my account @katie_shakira with your address if you need the book shipped, or put “local” for local pick-up.
as always, i welcome comments and musings of your own if you feel called to share.
with warm honeyed blessings,
katie shakira
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:-)