Mother Saturn

I’m writing a book right now. Writing requires structure, order, organization, logical progression, which requires being in your HEAD a lot.

That veered me off track from the original inspiration.

So here’s a poem for the artists and creators who could use some gentle reminder.

You hear the wisdom clearest in your heart, not your heart.

Go down, deeper, inward before you expand upward and outward.

Follow the Current All the Way Home

It begins with a feeling, not a plan.
Your heart carries a charge,
and the Universe curves itself around you
shaped like a horseshoe,
tugging like a magnet,
the way the moon shapes the tide
and the Ocean is blue.

Sometimes it will feel like a push.
Other times, it will feel like a pull.
But you will always feel it,
a slow, unmistakable draw
of what was meant to meet you.

You won’t always see it,
or hear it.
But always, you will feel it.

Mother nature’s tools
can help you navigate the currents,
which sometimes means
breaking the rules.

Fire will inspire your vision with movement,
that serve as different forms of medicine.

Earth steadies your feet
even when the path goes down unpaved streets.

Water rinses you body of fear,
when the way forward becomes unclear.

Wind guides you toward your mission
without asking permission.

And then you’ll arrive somewhere
a place,
a moment,
a person,
a lifestyle,
and you might say, “I think I’ll stay a while.”

Others will ask for need proof and explanation.
You do not owe any justification.

In that somewhere,
Fire feels like recognition.
It may fuel fire that inspires your dreams,
but it doesn’t have to be a race.

Earth feels like rest.
Never feel guilty, as you need this to build.
And after the stillness, you’ll more appreciate the thrill.

Water we need for release, it will cleanse the unseen hardships you’ve faced.

Wind feels like guidance, gentle as lace.
A breeze in the air to remind you
to take up more space.

You’ll get there and say

This must be the place.

That is how guidance comes.
Not as loud commands,
but as a feeling that sparks in the heart.
Like tiny, sparkly magical strands.

The vibration is dull to the hardened heart,
but becomes undeniable to your soul
when you give it a chance to
soften again. And this is when you realize
its time to cycle again.
From up and out.
Back in and down, a wise re-route.

That current in your heart

is the frequency that weaves the world together,
connecting us
to places, spaces,
moments, and memories
that some call the collective
but terms are respective.

Somewhere along the way,
when I tried to explain that magic,
my mind took over.

I gathered facts.
Proof.
Stories stitched tightly together
so no one could doubt me,
so my life would feel safe
and believable.

Slowly, the fabric grew heavy.
Meaning turned into armor.
Wonder became something to defend.
And flow felt like it came to an end.
My brain scurried to mend
the seemingly disconnected
life events.

But the current never disappeared.
I simply lost sight of it
when my head took the lead
and my heart didn’t get what it needs.

Beneath the layers of effort,
the need to get it right,
the pull was still there,
holding every piece together.

When I finally returned to my heart,
I found the feeling
exactly where it began.

It felt like sunlight warming my back
during a long surf session.
Like fruit just ripe enough
at the height of mango season.
How I revel in joy when I see
you smiling for no reason.
And the rush you get when you
catch a wave,
the same one that comes when you
use your breath to
calm yourself down
and part with the frown.
The texture of trust
you felt when you lived inside me,
and the sound of safety,
I felt when I nursed you.

The same current I carried as a child
through music that spoke to my soul,
laughter that lived
in the wisdom of my body,
resting in shared energy
with those who spoke
the language of silence.

The current does not connect through answers.
Only through attention.

It resists control
and responds to trust.

I followed it through cities
and across borders,
through love and loss,
through rooms full of noise
where I felt unbearably alone.
The same current that softened my heart when it turned to stone.

The same current that held me when I fell
into what felt like a well.

The same current
that re-directed me when I
drifted too far, co-conspiring with every star to illuminate the path again.

And eventually,
it led me home.

To the place where I belonged
without explanation or approval.
Where wonder wasn’t wrong.
Where magic wasn’t about sneaky removal,
no spells cast or fairytale folklore,
but as the intelligence of life that always knew more
than my brain alone could understand,
it’s knowing comparatively feeling

like a mere speck of sand.

Now that current shapes the

spine of the book
for my daughters.
A living current they can feel
so they always remember that
magic is real.

A reminder that life speaks
in patterns,
in sensations,
and quiet invitations.

So they know with conviction

that they don’t need to harden to be wise.
And sometimes the truth is
invisible to the eyes
but crystal clear to the
heart.
And in that knowing, they can always come home.

The heart. Where they never have to
to disappear to be loved.
And find their way back when they feel lost.

For them to know that
that not all life lessons must come with a cost.
But all lessons do bring light.
That can feel like a flame,
resisting the flow
of the current.

That’s when you use the magic you’ve found
to turn the wounds into wisdom.
With the same charge your heart

carried from the start.

And then you’ll remember
the Universe responds in tides.
All of life
is part of the ride.

Remember to listen,
trust the pull,
and go for the life that glistens
in your eye.
Do not shrink to live a life
not rooted in truth, as it will bring strife.

Trust, my love, that when you follow your heart,

the collective flow will guide you.
Back to what is true.

And you’ll understand that what felt like roaming
was actually flowing
Slowly, your place in the collective
becomes clearwith your growing.