Writings of a Goddess

Hello! It's been a while sense I posted, I've had some health issues to deal with (and still dealing with) but I am doing better! I did some writing earlier this year so this will be a collection of those recent works. This first one is a rewriting of my poem "Oracle of Me" to be positive and self affirming. I'm still proud of that one but I almost like this version better. Oracle of Me: Reverence. 1/19/2022 Only I know my mind, a place of reverence. Only I dictate its steps, its journey through the Cosmos. My temple is sacred, this form of flesh and blood. Tempered through fire and words. The God is me, Holy Scripture falling from my own lips of the future. My word is sacred, leading me with grace and Motherly Love. I must become my own kindness, rebirth in a womb of my own making. I must trust the words of honey, laced with good nature. Its blinding faith trusting oneself, but the chalice will be filled with what is required, You have all that you need, the Alta...

I recently watched a German musical called Elisabeth and there was a character meant to be Death (Der Tod) and that got me thinking, what if during my open heart surgery I spoke with Death? I wasn't going to die (obviously), but I was closer to Death then usual. So I wrote this piece inspired by that, a conversation with Death that I don't remember. It's a slightly heavy topic, but I tried to be as lighthearted about it as possible. This isn't about dying, more about knowing Death as a friend and not being afraid. Note: this isn't supposed to be Der Tod specific, just Death in general. There was some inspiration but I tried to be as vague as possible. I think Death looks different for each of us, mine just happens to be a handsome person in velvet haha I find myself sitting in a chair. Everything is grey clouds around me. To my left is a window, a large gilded gold frame filled with thick glass. It's twice as tall as me and twice as wide, filling my entire view....

Oracle of Me. Written 6/18/2021. Have I lost it? Or am I simply a modern Oracle, receiving prophecies from a mad God? But the God is me, Holy Scripture from my own lips of the future. And yet how much must be taken as Gospel? How many of the Prophet's words are Holy? When does one trust the word of honey laced with static as true? Am I kin of Cassandra or is the curse all in my head. Trust in God is often blind Faith, holding a chalice praying it will be filled with what you need. Forgetting you are the seat of that power.