Her Power

Fresh Spotify Playlists
for the daze / day(s); Her Power & Dark Heat
Reminiscing for the seasons of serving  as a radio host for KBBI AM 890 up on Tuggeght (Homer) Alaska.
The Sarah Tonin Serenade was the name of my twice-monthly track spin show.
Weather Report: Cloudy, with a chance of sadness.

But not today ~
I went for a wander and watched the courtship of two mountain bluebirds. Dips and dives in and around the juniper. It’s in the air.
I wondered of this attractive man and the way he looks at me and watching what it is that he does with this spark. His face is so bright, so open, so genuine. I have to put sunglasses on every time I look at him.
Lay your cards out.
Come meh way.

I’m in no hurry.
I want to know
and see
and sense
How do you move through this world ~
and what do you do? How do you give?
Where is your stance of strength
and will trust be nurtured there too?
Are you vulnerable ~ sensitive ~
acknowledge the importance of this?

There is readiness,
and there is hesitation.
I’m not someone who puts my worth on whether I am in a partnership or not. Sexual encounters are not a direct pursuit or priority.
I had seen, growing up, that to give this sacred part of me was necessary ~
Carved from a pressure under toxic patriarchal identity ~
even when I didn’t want to.
I mistook a teaching of obligation
(an appreciation for response-ability)
over the reception of pleasure
and what a confusing way to be
how misleading: facade furthering.
What I was taught: that sexualization was all and only woman-ness.
And I rarely made those moves if the sense wasn’t right
and shamed myself accordingly, so poorly.
The feeling is greater than the idea.
I never agreed with the social standards:
(as a teenager I drew a picture of a figure
with X’d out chest and hands covering the entry
with words, boldly defined, undefining:
I reserve and tend to this fire carefully, now:
because I love this body
(when I never did before).
And it was assumed ~
Even if I’m spending time
doesn’t mean that any of this is for you
to take, to have, to keep.
I choose.
And when I do ~
it will be the kind
that summons a soul
from seed sewn to core.

(Dearest body
if I’m
within you:
I know how to move
and how to please:
now the learning
is on how to receive)

It is a refreshing place to stand, as a woman;
to know what I want and to be secure in that place.
To be balanced in the fluidity of non-binary spirit space.
The womb speaks: there is permission
when it is earned, when it is safe.

Twice I have seen an energy entity
knockin at the womb portal door:
Luna is who I call it,
and however they take form:
doesn’t necessarily have to be
a child or as a physical being ~
could be through art, could be a book,
could be a presence that weaves
nuance in the heart of living.

I wonder at the bloom
of weaving beautiful in this loom;
when my back still is stiff and tight
from injuries of tension and fight

and even with all of this honing;
muscle rowing walking pushing pulling
my hips get locked and it’s hard to walk. 
There’s a wound there, still ~ 
and meditations and spirit breath
give lovely, beautiful, release
what this ache asks for
is the tender trance

for intimate grasp 
rhythmic circulation
inside; the rooted dance

this is where
we surrender
to each / other