which I am blaming on conditions alongside the road, I return to the online world to find that a member of one circle has birthed a child. Here, words from another member of said ring. (I look at my circles and know myself to be more than fortunate.)
Spell for Inviting-in the New Soul
Jane Hirshfield
Shy one,
small donkey, come forward.
Let world be cradle.
Fish drifting, enter weight gladly.
Trust passage.
If suffering will chant you,
if terror,
in pine dark, deer breathing.
In sea-bench's sorrow gills salt-light.
Know owl-cries your forelock.
Know leaf-scent, know cities, know rivers,
doorways stand open.
In ice-grip, know muskrat's strong swimming.
Let asking.
Let losing and breaking, let weather.
Let entrance entirely.
Desires bray sweet in the ladders of loudness.
Shy one, small donkey, trust hoof-fall.
Seeds wait to ride on your ankles,
five baskets
of apple sleep guardian.
The bridle placed heavy wears bell-sounds.
Agreeing come forward.
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