Soul Writer

I call on you. 

This is it. 

The witchy season has come. 

No more hiding. 

Together, we can rise. 

Together, we can change. 

Together, we can shift. 

Ourselves. 

And the world. 

But I can feel your fear. 

I can feel your pain. 

Your wounded heart is still crying. 

You were tortured 

because of speaking your truth, 

because of stepping into your power, 

because of who you are.

You were burnt 

because others feared your magick. 

They were terrified of you. 

Terrified that you would claim

your rightful place in the world, 

Terrified that your rage

would burn down their cages.

Terrified that your love 

would shift their world. 

They implanted their fear 

into you. 

Into us. 

They’ve made us believe

that we are the problem.

They’ve made us believe

that speaking our truth should be punished. 

They’ve made us believe

that we shouldn’t claim our magick. 

We’ve been burning for centuries, 

trapped in cages built by weak men. 

This stops now, dear witch. 

The season of the witch has come. 

Our time has come. 

We need to step through the fire 

to break the cages, 

to turn our old selves into ashes.

So, our true selves can unfold. 

Are you brave enough 

to step through the fire with me?

Are you willing to burn?

Willing to purge your corrupted soul?

Again. 

And again. 

Purging. Burning. 

Until your heart is free again. 

Until your magick runs wild again. 

Until you’ve relearned your craft. 

This is it. 

The witchy season has come. 

Step into your power, wild one. 

Own it.  

Sincerely, 

Your witch sister who steps with you through the fire.