I first saw this on GrannyMoon*s Morning Feast, and when I went looking for the post online I was gifted with finding the original source.That kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me often, and now thanks to a step onto my morning path, I am now able to follow yet another magnificent magickal blogger.
I can hear, underground, that sucking and sobbing, In my veins, in my bones I feel it,– The small water seeping upward, The tight grains parting at last. When sprouts break out, Slippery as f…
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