Winter's Cold Embrace

Where the Snow Speaks

Snow falls soft, a blanket of white silence.
The land hushed, holding its breath.
But beneath the surface, ancient wounds stir. 
A legacy of pain, the echoes of control, the witch's curse.

My furry friend, she paces. Restless.
A wild spirit yearning for freedom. 
For the open field, for the chase, for freedom. 

But the sun's glare on the snow...it warns. 
Like the maiden's power, suppressed and stolen. 
She beckons and bites. 
A dangerous beauty.

This shimmering expanse, it calls to me. 
A seductive embrace, mirroring the fire within. 
My body awakens. A primal pulse.
A wildfire of desire, pounding, unleashed.

"Embrace the decay," she whispers. 
"For in the darkness, life finds its way."

Like mycelium, hidden and strong, we connect. 
Roots reaching deep, drawing strength from the unseen. The darkness, a fertile ground for rebellion. 
The light, a guide on the path to freedom.

We burrow deep, like the mouse, 
finding nourishment in the shadows. 
We rise, like the archer's arrow, aiming for the light. 
A promise of longer days, of warmth returning. 
Even in the darkest depths of winter's night,
The flame of hope within me keeps burning.

I adapt, like the rabbit, 
changing colors with the seasons. 
I trust the ancient knowing, 
like the migrating birds, following an unseen path. 
The maiden's fire still dances in my blood. 
A thirst for the new, a hunger for justice. 
The mother's love flows through my veins, 
nurturing the seeds of my soul. 
The crone's wisdom guides me, 
a steady hand in the darkness.

Like the snake, shedding its skin, 
revealing a vibrant new form. 
I embrace the darkness, I welcome the light, 
Knowing that both hold a piece of the truth. 
As the wheel of the year turns, I stand ready to rise. Accepting transformation is a spiral, not linear. 
An endless dance of death and rebirth. 

The all-seeing eye, it rests in the stillness. 
Gathering strength, witnessing the cycles. 
We rise, healed and empowered, yet still vulnerable. 
For the journey is never truly over. 
In the quiet moments, wisdom takes root. 
The ancient priestess within, 
bearing the fruit of experience. 
And through the endless dance of decay, 
we rise again. 
Stronger, Wiser, more Free. 
Transformed. Renewed. Reborn.