I once fell for the charm of a warm fire in modern housing where neighbours constantly put a damper on what is classed freedom.
I once liked to dwell within walls that seemed to offer comfort and shelter.
I was a fool.
For my soul to embrace life’s journey, I had to snip away at burdens that weighed heavily on the shoulders.
So I took it upon myself to invoke death, metaphorically speaking.
I held out open hands toward sky.
In a forest of twilight, I asked the Gods to re-dress my skin in understanding and faith as I screamed at the sacrifices I had made.
The sound shall always remain but I know it was the correct decision.
I am now called the hermit witch.
Someone deemed insane, perhaps, but someone who has recognised walls cannot suppress her heart any longer.
Tis a humble cave, illuminated at night by a small fire and carvings on the wall.
This is all I need.
Nature gives me a source of food and water.
Ocean speaks to me each morning as mountains overlook the entrance to my abode.
I took minimal possessions with me.
Even a hermit witch has need of small comforts.
My books of magic, they are piled at the far end of the cave, covered with a piece of red silk scarf I have kept for many years.
Poetry and literature came along with me, though only a few of my favourite authors.
I brought tarot cards and cauldron, deity figurines and pestle and mortar.
I carried broom, herbs and wisdom in my heart, leaving all else behind.
I used to stand the broom at the door of my old house for protection.
Here, I need no such thing.
I am whole again, immersed within waves reflection and moonlight’s glow.
I speak to the mountains and listen to the ebb and flow of calmness.
Materialism claimed my soul for too long.
I have seen sunsets glitter and call my name.
I have witnessed storms electrify pleasure destroying past pain.
It is here I shall stay.
Fear Burning Times no more.
This is my call.
My right to be.
This is the hermit become and the witch living freely within me.
I never shall.
I shall die where my feet touch warm sand.
Where seaweed wraps around my toes.
I shall depart where sunrise paints my skin and animals attune to my voice within.
I shall leave this level of existence with nothing in my palms but clarity and freedom.
I need no house to symbolise my soul.
No bricks to shelter my weary bones.
I need only nature.
Herbs burning as spells are cast to invoke peace.
I need only this to know I am home.
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