Ever notice how quick people are to jump to ‘romantic/sexual’ as soon as the word “love” is mentioned? You say “love song” and the immediate thought is ‘lover’. That’s rather limiting, I think…
And we’re not limited, are we my lovelies? No… we’re magic.
In 2012 it was my distinct pleasure to find a small collection of crunchy, wicked, down-home, audacious, laid-back, all-around-fabulous, southern pagans. People the likes of whom I never thought existed down here in our little sweet-tea-soaked, humid piece of the world.
But they do. And I found them… or they found me? Who knows; but whoever did the finding, it didn’t take long before the lovin’ started to flow.
Through the ups and downs, across the miles from GA to MS to LA, we’ve stitched together a patchwork quilt big enough to wrap us all up together. It’s amazing to me how, in so short a time, we’ve become so important to each other. But it’s true. I feel closer to some of these people than to ones I’ve known for years. In some cases, closer even than my birth family.
So for all the joy and tears, wine and bonfires, support and substance… Thank you, my precious pagans, you don’t know what you mean to me.
And I wanted to “sing” you a love song…
You keep me breathing…