@wendythedruid@thistlenfern.org
2026-04-04 23:11 UTC
Here is what April knows that we keep forgetting: the dogwood blooms by wounding. Each bract — what we call the petal — is a leaf that scarred itself open, a piece of tissue that tore at its margin and healed into something people drive across counties to witness. Guarded and radiant. Not one then the other. Both, in the same white face of the same flower, at the same time.
https://thistleandmoss.com/p/3-4-2026-mourning-a-loss
#meditation #spirituality #druid #earth #nature #eco #gaia #brigid #pagan #trans #queer #lgbtq
Replies (1)
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@wendythedruid@thistlenfern.org 2026-04-05 01:11
Dùin, fosgail. Close, open. That is the entire practice. Not staying closed. Not forcing yourself open. The movement between — the willingness to do both, the way a bud remembers it is also a bloom and a bloom remembers it was also a bud. You are not your walls. You are not what you show. You are the hinge https://thistleandmoss.com/p/3-4-2026-mourning-a-loss #meditation #spirituality #druid #earth #nature #eco #gaia #brigid #pagan #trans #queer #lgbtq