What an incredibly humbling experience to journey with my Sisters of the Colorado Springs Red Tent through the Yoni Flame this weekend. Thank you so very much for honoring me the opportunity to Priestess and to Tascha, of the beautiful and comforting Center for Powerful Living, thank you for your excellent support in functionality throughout the entire process. My mind was at ease with you at the helm.
Women, My Sisters, You INSPIRE ME!!!
Creatrixes bringing life to material UTTERLY blowing my mind. It started with a woman who reached for the thorns of a rose, another who thought a petal might be grand. Then, my dear Sisters shared pearls and amethyst, casting gemstones in the matrix of their creation. Symbolically lavishing glorious creative expression and attention to their Yoni. How excellently erotic is that?
Conversations moved gently and easily with the creative flow of energy moving around topics about how we call and see our Yoni's, hear our Yoni's reflected in a Lover's words and gaze, questioning the taboo, luxuriating in the freedom to claim each glorious Yoni as one's own Divinely Feminine creation with open-hearted vulnerability and authenticity between us. Together, we remember the power of healing through storytelling while sitting - as equals - in Circle.
I am in awe and without further words to describe sharing this deep healing with my Sisters. From here, I'll let the Yoni's speak for themselves.
Pictured: Waning Moon with Venus and Jupiter in Scorpio at dawn
In The Valley of Her Bones
by Jessica R. Allen
She sheds this skin.
Each death a new beginning.
Between the bones and decay
An ember sparks.
A subtle stirring.
Old material uncovered.
The Winds of Change nurture
Ember seeking matter to flame.
Earth heaves under the spark.
The quake of unknowing
Bone pressed to Earth.
Stirring flames between them.
Flames blaze an inner inferno
Consuming the remnants
Of sorrow and decay.
"There's nothing left," her spirit cried.
Clutching ashes between bone
As if her heart would shatter through.
Pressure igniting flames to burn
Higher. And hotter still.
"What more can I give?" she pleaded.
Tearing at the soft flesh of her womb.
Unending tears in flowing streams.
"I am nothing!"
"I am NO THING!"
Bones dried to dust.
Winds howl over the desert prairie.
Lighting the landscape aflame.
Licking the wounds between them
No longer contained.
"How long must we burn?" the Earth cried out,
Her children long scattered.
Her body now charred
In the valley of dust and bone.
Shouldering the vicious task to eternally light the way
the Sun thunderously roared
Shrouded in a mane of black fiery flames.
"I am the fire to warm you.
The wrath to inspire you.
The fury to dominate and destroy you.
Rage sweeping through the ashes of her bones.
Her Self undoing.
Her Self mastery.
The gentle sweetness of rain
Offers a blissful reprieve.
And tampering flames.
The wind whisks droplets of dew
In crevices burned crisp.
of pearls and bone blog
by: Jessica Ruth Allen
Soul expressions of a fiercely feminine warrior nurturing inner harmony.