A poem inspired by an oracle reading during my flamekeeping shift.
(Image description: A photo of a pair of hands holding a bellows to furnish a fire in a stone fireplace, causing sparks to fly into the air.) Credit: Photo by quentin touvard on Unsplash
Gifts of Rest
Rest,
She told me,
a simple yet deep message.
The blanket of sleep
a weight on my eyes and limbs,
drawing me downward.
A quiet respite
calling to me
of greater things.
Reviving sleep
the ladle to my lips
a sip from Your well.
To heal me,
restore me,
mend me.
In the burgeoning darkness,
imagination is kindled,
stirring the flame to life.
Of my hearth,
my head,
my heart.
Behind my closed eyes
my slow breaths, a bellows
on my inner flame.
Curled within my bedding,
Your mantle holding me tight
a cocoon of blessing.
As my inner cauldrons slumber,
they brew and bubble
and incubate dreams.
My mind inspired,
my body strengthened,
my spirit brightened.
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