Her gentle voice drifted through the veils between worlds and landed directly in my heart. She was standing nearby, her presence so visceral. She had come when I’d called to the ancestors for help.
The naming welcomed me inside a circle, wrapping me up in the embrace of belonging. This Ancient One reached through the mysteries of time and space, through the differences in our languages, lifetimes, and homelands. We were kin, not through birthing and bloodlines. She knew me and I knew her.
She held a bowl of burning herbs and waved the smoke into me. The healing washed through me. Her lovingness touched me, soothing the grief that weighed heavy on my heart.
Your tears speak of the sorrows.
Your tears speak of love.
The ways of your world are challenging.
Our earth is in a cycle of great change.
Rivers flowed from the vessel the Ancient One held in her hands.
Rippling currents cascaded down my spine, cleansing and nourishing.
Root in the remembering.
Breathe life into the dreams that you dream.
Crystal clear waters streamed down my arms and poured out my hands. Reviving.
Let the healing waters flow.