Crone Soul Retrieval

I remember the crone,
the gnarled fingers and
white hair –
Baskets of herbs and flowers
drying everywhere.
How many years did she
spend in this hut alone?
She lost count –
years or decades,
it didn’t matter
(but it did, it did).
Fear turned the townspeople
against her, and so she built
a hut, deep in the woods.
She
went
so
long
without
speaking
to
anyone
that
she
forgot
how
to
speak,
and on those rare occasions
when someone stopped by,
covertly,
for a tea or a love spell,
her words came out
faint and raspy. She
was a witch at a time
when them would burn,
so she counted
herself lucky –
alone but alive,
until the day that
comes to us all, eventually,
the day we die,
and so she passed –
loneliness –
her dying breath,
her soul unsettled,
knowing that this was
not the way
it was meant to be.
I carry a piece of her
inside of me
to this very day,
and yet I only thought
to hug her
for the first time
yesterday.
Dear crone,
I love you,
I love your bravery
and all your
weird and wonderful
ways, and you are not alone
anymore,
for you shall always live
on inside of me.
Though you flew alone
in that life,
for what seemed
an eternity,
you were always
surrounded by light.
For, all is but a dream
we dream, one cold
and sunny day.
✨✨✨

#pastlife #soulretrieval #witch #shaman #healer #lightworker #journey #write #writing #writingcommunity #poem #poetry #poetrycommunity #spiritualawakening #soul #higherconsciousness #evolve #grow #crone #darkages #geneticmemory #akashicrecords #storytelling

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