Heated Whispers

There's nothing in the world quite as restless as a Witch about to turn 30.

All things considered, this Summer hasn't been too bad for Texas.  We haven't broken 100 (yet) except in the heat indices, and until August it rained and rained, keeping temps lower than usual. 
And yet, each day that passes makes me ache more and more acutely for Autumn.  I am staring at the sky and tasting the wind for the slightest tinge of Scorpio Season, willing the Wheel to turn, praying for relief from the unrelenting Sun.

Everything seems to be held in stasis right now.  Life, the weather, everything.  Even with the looming threat of hurricanes--I grew up on the Gulf Coast so I'm no stranger to the roar--the Earth feels like She's holding Her breath, waiting to exhale, waiting, just like me, for Summer to bow and exit stage left, its baked-brown costume shabby with age compared to Fall's brilliant robes. 

Perhaps it's the Dark Goddess whispering in my ear; Her breath carries the scent of fallen leaves and the slight chill of October rain.  She is a study in contrasts, a deeply Fiery and sensual Goddess whose season is one of cold and death, and to a person who has done her time in the Underworld, it all makes perfect sense.

Hurry, hurry, I hear my heart murmuring.  Come, come.  I am impatient for my lover, waiting at the window for the sound of antlers crashing through the cedars, straining to hear the distant drums, my fingers toying with the neck of my robe, the candles already lit.

Nature, like good sex or fine wine, will not be hurried.  She has Her own schedule to keep.  Yet still, I call, and I wait.   I can feel the course of my life pivoting on the events of this Fall--I couldn't say why, but I feel it as surely as I feel sweat trickling down my back--and I am impatient.  Tired of standing still.  Ready to push.

I find myself singing:

summer move forward and stitch me the fabric of fall
wrap life in the brilliance of death to humble us all
how sweet is the day
I'm craving a darkness
as I sit tucked away with my back to the wall...

and the taste of dried-up hopes in my mouth
and the landscape of merry and desperate drought
how much longer dear angels
come break me with ice
let the water of calm trickle over my doubts

come let me drown
angels no fire no salt on the plow
carry me down
bury me down

and the taste of dried-up hopes in my mouth
and the landscape of merry and desperate drought
once I knew myself
and with knowing came love
I would know love again if I had faith enough
too far is next spring and her jubilant shout
so angels, inside
is the only way out

~from "Drought" by Vienna Teng

My mind is full of words like "surrender" and "unfold."  I'll have more to say about them soon.  For now, it's margaritas and air conditioning, sunscreen and sweat, and the cultivation of patience...whether I like it or not.

Comments

[Sarah]

This gives eloquent voice to the same yearning I feel late every summer when I long for the heat to break over me so fevered summer can give way to Autumn's chill. It's the relief of the cool side of the pillow against your cheek, and I cannot wait!

Wishing you a momentous season
of unfolding birth,
Sarah

[Kimberly Anne]

I know just what you mean about restlessness. I turn 30 a month from tomorrow, and lately, I've been feeling like something is coming. I don't know what is or when it is, but I can feel it, like a knot in my chest that isn't yet to be untied.

The last days of summer are always so full of waiting for me.

[Thalia]

I feel it too, though I don't know what it is, something's coming. (Though I'm rather past 30!)

Good to have you back. Take the most excellent and kindest care of yourself.

[Cat Chapin-Bishop]

Thank you, Dianne. This was lovely (a weak word for strong feelings!). "I am impatient for my lover, waiting at the window for the sound of antlers crashing through the cedars, straining to hear the distant drums, my fingers toying with the neck of my robe, the candles already lit."

_Yes._

And for me, really, life has been so much deeper and richer and better in the 17 years since I turned 30. There is such goodness in ripening!

[Teresa]

thank you for turning me on to vienna teng by the way, shes amazing