Kiss of Ice and Fire

I had given up hope of seeing your face until the wheel turned yet again, oh goddess. I awoke today to a different world, and you had painted it with your palette. I walked into the day, guardians of Light and Dark at either side, forever companions. I felt your icy tears fall upon my cheeks, a mother’s kiss. You wrapped me in your soft arms, and I entered that luminous space where you exist. Cold. Silent. Brilliant. Crystalline. Each tear was a unique blessing, different than the others. In that silent walk, I heard my own heart and the whisper of your strength. I felt my heart both calm and surge at the same time, knowing that you had gifted me with the ability to see between the worlds for a moment.

Others trudge through the wintery mess, seeing it not quite snow and not quite rain. A muddy mess. The need to bundle up. But, they miss that sense of beauty, the contrast that even the simplest things bring. That contrast between the icy droplets on the face, that slight pinging sound, and the feeling of being wrapped in layers of loving warmth and moving through a quiet day. How can they not see what I see? How do they not know what I know?

I suppose it is because their mother is not the queen who resides in the northern reaches. They don’t wait for her to visit, longing and yearning for her touch, for her blessing. They were not given life by the cold wind and the amazing silence where one can hear her own thoughts. Not the nagging thoughts that paralyze daily life. The thoughts that speak of deeper truths, of the fire that burns in the hearth of the heart.

To me, it is essential that I walk amidst the dancing dreams of the goddess, that float as if without gravity, gracing the cheek, glittering on the fur of the black one walking by my side.

It is in that space with no gravity, where sound moves in different ways, where warmth and icy cold meet that I feel alive. It is what carries me through days when it is too hot to breath. It is actually what ignites the fires within. I hear her whisper of who I truly am. I am reminded that I am but a visitor here. I am not the broken down shadow of a person that I often feel I am. I am reminded that I inherit the strength of my mother, the winter, the goddess. She is soft, but when she needs to be, she is unyielding. Her strength comes in silence, but she is capable of breaking the largest trees and changing the landscape in a day. She can drift in the wind or build herself into something solid. Creative potential. She is there for a moment, only a breath. It’s true especially here, where the heat can be so brutal. But, she comes into my life for those moments, reminding me that I, too, am fey. I am not of this world. I am a warrior, goddess, priestess, maiden, vestal virgin, the Morgaine, the woman who waits for a love that is worthy of her strength and her softness and her intuition and her knowledge of the “other.”

And, so today, I thank you, Mother, for reminding me who I am. Thank you for my guides and guardians, those creatures of Light and Dark, who walk beside me not just on their leashes out in public, but through every day. They watch over me. My boy will always be by my side. He is my heart. My girl, well, she knows me, understands my love of a visit from this winter goddess. She is my soul. Angels, but not unawares. I know who they are. I can, after all, see between the worlds on rare occasions.

I will go forward, with the memory of a gentle kiss of icy tears on my cheeks, Softness and strength. An ice to ignite my fire.

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~ by Janice Holladay on February 12, 2012.

One Response to “Kiss of Ice and Fire”

  1. […] Kiss of Ice and Fire (crazytherapist.wordpress.com) Share this:EmailFacebookLike this:LikeBe the first to like this post. Posted in Voyages and tagged Arts, English language, Italian, Italian language, Italian people, Italy, Queen, Roman Emperor, Rome, United States, Vestal Virgin […]

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