The More Things Change...

[perzephone]

The more they stay the same...

Needs:

I need, more than anything, the Great Mystery.

     I need rain, an end to the drought. I am still a priestess of the land, though the Gods don't talk to me anymore, and I have stopped talking to the Gods.

     I feel as though this drought is the drought in my soul. There is no rain, no relief. Parched, barren ground, cracked, fallen to dust.

     My heart thirsts and all I have received to slake it is a wild fire of frustration and anger. Fruit withered on the vine, leaf shriveled on the bough, all burnt, all in ruins.

     I am truly in the Great Big Empty, a void, an endless horizon choked with red dust and hollow, howling winds.

     Maybe I am growing desperate because the valley spirit is desperate. I yearn towards the thundery days of late July, our little monsoon season. I hope it brings more than the eerie spectacle of heat lightning. I hope it unleashes torrents of rain. I hope it floods. I need to see pools of water on the sidewalks, raging rivers in the gutters. I want to fill vessel after vessel and cover my altar with water in cups and bowls and saucers and vases and urns. I want to hear the water-drum on the porch, I need to hear it squall against the window panes. 

Frog, Otter, Whale, Thunder Beings, Cloud Babies, hear my prayer!

Send rain, send rain, send rain!