August 7, 2017

In the beginning, there was Darkness. And the Darkness, was lonely. Thus the Darkness spoke, and there was Light. And Darkness loved the Light, and the Light loved the Darkness, and their love was so strong that their bodies came together and Created All That Is. 

Then, from All That Is that was Created through their Love, there were new gods and spirits that formed as the planets and the stars were shaped, as the mountains spat fire and creatures rose from the vast seas to walk the land that was the body of even older sleeping gods. 

One day, one of these Beings, one of these spirits looked at their body, and the body of their comrades, and looked to the earth. They took up blood that came from the sacred place between their legs, and mixed it with the clay of the earth, and formed the People of the Earth in Their image. 

They set the People of the Earth a task: you are of the earth, not apart from it. It is your place to protect all things, it is your role to honor and worship, to give...

July 31, 2017

Wild thing

Fox haired

Feathered wing

Teeth bared 

Broken thing

Wild haired

Tethered wing

Skin bared

Dreaming thing

Soft haired

Mended wing

Soul bared

 "That line belongs on your face," the Lady Ram said to me... 

Dream on, wild things

Juniper Wren

Original poetry and photos by Aileen 'Juniper Wren' Peterson / Femme de la Foret 

Please include this page or my Instagram to give credit when sharing, in full. 

Pheasant wing hair clip by Necromancy Creations 

June 27, 2017

Stepping onto the rocky sand,

the waves sucking at my feet

Water Biting, numbing in its coldness,

toes lose feeling, gooseflesh rises on skin,

nipples harden

The water roiling, dark, foreboding--

it calls me deeper, deeper

Siren Song calls, it vibrates in my long bones

and swims through my veins like fish--

I hear it bouncing off the cliff face,

do they hear it too?

Standing on the dark, slick rocks, toes gripping,

arms outstretched and eyes closed--

wind whipping hair, fog brushing naked flesh

I feel the pull, the Call-- Home, they sing, Come Home,

this is your power place, your Soul Home

But I have not my sealskin, I cannot live beneath the waves--

and yet, still here, my power rises and knows this place,

these waters

A longing, dark and deep,

like the drop-off hidden just past the curling waves,

haunts me always

A desire for returning to,

becoming again of the Sea 

Ocean Blessings to my fellow Sea Witches + Sea Creatures,

Juniper Wren 

Poem & Photos (Shoot Location: Northern California Coastli...

June 17, 2017

I recently returned from a week in the Northern California woods, surrounded by second generation redwoods, douglas fir, and a spattering of madrone, oak, blackberry, thimbleberry, and others. I had gone to gather to learn, teach, and grow with a group of amazing people from all backgrounds and walks of life connected by a red thread of reproductive justice work and activism. Though it was, in and of itself, an eye-opening experience that jump started some amazing progress as a group / collaboration / network, I took away so much more from my time spent there outside of the confines of the group itself and the topics discussed. 

Most notably of which was a reality check. I hadn't realized just how much I have shifted over the last year or so as a Being. Before the trip in months past, and especially since my cycles have returned, I have become even more highly sensitive to sensory input, energetic input, etc. and have been navigating how to manage that. Being overstimulated can res...

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© 2017 by Femme de la Foret // Aileen Peterson

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