Saturday, March 9, 2019

Pisces into Aries: A Spring Equinox Poem

Poem © 2019 by Joyce Mason

The winter knot in my stomach:
A tight bulb
putting out shoots as the rains come.
The weather is seductive,
flaunting bursts of sun and shirtsleeves.
Spring is alluring in the final days
of the Dark of Winter.
A tease.

I begin to see green things in my dreams
sprouting from my eyes, ears and other openings.
Sometimes they dare to bud and laugh at me.
I hide under my down comforter in a flash frozen moment,
teeth chattering in tempo with the gauzy sights and maniacal sounds.

As Pisces peaks
I crave music and meditation
but like Aries itself, I cannot muster patience
even from Bliss.
Want. Spring. Now.

And while I’m distracted
trying to figure out my overactive night movies,
Spring dashes in from behind,
nearly Equi-obnoxious,
soon racing far out front.
I am left in a wake of stardust,
post-morning coffee eyes
and Get Up and Go.

Now that’s awakening.


Photo Credit: © Nadiaforkosh |

Thursday, March 7, 2019

Poem: Chiron in Aries

Dear Radical Readers,

Happy Chiron Return to all our fiftyish readers. This is a gift to you and a mantra for the rest of us to explore for the current cycle of Chiron in Aries. I see it expressing the potential for healing as we reel from a time of bullying, harshness and the need to cut through some pretty cruel crap and in-fighting so we can protect what we call wholly. This is one of 12 poems in my ebook, Poems to Heal the Healer: The 12 Chiron Signs. You can purchase via the link just cited or in the sidebar for $4.99. It makes a great gift for people who speak astrology and especially those in the healing arts. It's a condensed course in understanding the Chiron signs. Feel free to share this poem with attribution.

With hope for a sweeter world,

Swords pierce and define me:

Nightmares of bullies
violent beginnings
protecting the softened

I, hero, heal
in the world of physicality

T’ai chi,
kick box
head butt

Ebb and flow
put out fires

Discover myself
my vocation
in my own heartbeat

Blood racing to compete the circuit
my warrior quest:
Who Am I?

In helping and healing the bruised     
I find the real competition:

bursting the tape at the finish line
of wholeness

in my own time

not necessarily first.

© 2010 by Joyce Mason
All Rights Reserved