Grace came a dancin today, throwing stars from her pockets to land as gossamer beads upon my dulled crown,
witch,
until she showed up, had become blackened from within, by the voices of spectre and shadow who seek to pull a soul elsewhere,
perhaps,
though that elsewhere is abundant with pregnancy and with re-birth for it seems to me that elsewhere is always where
she is?
She is, perhaps.
Ahhh, this resonates. It seems to me the idea of be-witched, re-witched is also afoot when I think of Glinda's assessment of Dorothy's presence and grace when she asked her famous question. I am glad I was here online just as you posted this.