Musings on the spirit of the spinners and weavers

The First Mother is the Queen Mother of my mother-line. She is the first weaver. She weaved out her DNA though centuries, and all began with her. She touched the strands of her DNA and sent them through time and space, through her sons and daughters right to me. Her weave is still present within me. This is what gave me life. This is the scent of my hive. This is my home. Her wisdom sings to me in my blood, speaks to me in dreams – always present, always guiding, enclosed within, and spreading through my weave in this world. Her wisdom is still present in my blood. On the first day of each cycle, I stand in front of the empty loom, yet the threads of the past are constantly present and weaving itself into creation of each cycle. Cycle within cycle, blood within blood, womb within womb. Wisdom written in starry heavens and within our bodies. All that we will ever need is always present within us. Our mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers – all the way to the First Mother. Our children, and their children, all the way to the end of time. We all share the common thread – the thread of our blood and its sacred wisdom. The stories and songs sang long before the world was created; the stories and songs that are yet to be born – all present already within. Each muscle, tendon, nerve is the weave of our bodies that carry vibration from the past and possibilities of the future. And every time we touch someone, we connect on the energetic level weaving them into the history of our being, into our legend and our song. And some weaves are temporary and painful, but some are eternal.

I can feel the First Mother, with her gifts and her wounds and I can hear her song calling me back home. I am a mother too, with my gifts and wounds and I am vibrating with yet unsung song that is almost ready to be born. I’m in the process of writing myself up in the music of my ancestral line – into the sound that will sound forever.

Each shift – however painful or easy, brings a change to the pattern of my weave, as right now I am the weaver of my family history. I am the extension of my ancestors, I am the ancestor for the generations yet to come – the blood ancestors, the light ancestors, the energetical ancestors, the Global Weave of All. The weaver in life and death, darkness and light, fear, and immense courage. I am a woman finding the threads of her power, finding her belonging, her tribe, her hive. And the sweet sound of the song of my Queen Mother sounds like honey and activates my inner garden. My roses are blooming, my memories, my blood, my being. I don’t feel alone anymore as I can feel the voices of my sisters, mothers, grandmothers, encouraging me to weave forward. We are the Worshippers of Beauty, the Singers of Life, the Attendands of Death and Dying, The Maidens of power hidden within, the Singers of Hope. The weavers of our story through the threads of time and space, through the threads of hope and fear, through the threads of Universe herself. And I feel that I belong in the circle of those women. I can feel the sisterhood and kin. And we gather together through time and space, and we are all present within my body. I can never be alone as I carry them in my blood, in my memory, in each cell of my body.

So, I connect to them, and I am.

So, I connect to them, and I was.  

So, I connect to them, and I will be.

So, I connect to us, and the song of Queen Mother vibrates through my bones, right into the cathedral structure of my present, my past, and my future selves.

This is the weave and the wisdom of the Song of my Blood.

With love,