by Xandra O'Neill | Feb 9, 2019 | poetry, Sacred Becoming
My tired eyes look up and spot the fan, turning revolutions like a beating heart, steady and slow to the music, creating sensuality where before there was none and it does it without being noticed, by most how often do we feel like the fan, turning revolutions like a...
by Xandra O'Neill | Feb 6, 2019 | Sacred Becoming
Part 1. The book was sitting there. It’s cover looked almost new even through its years of use. It had been kept well. The cover was dark blue, so deep that one could get lost just staring at it. It sat there, alone. It was the last thing in the room. Everything else...
by Xandra O'Neill | Feb 5, 2019 | Sacred Becoming
To pick up the shovel, I could not do it. To bring the earth to meet the metal, I could not do it. To stand beside you, lowered now into the earth, All I could bare to do was hide behind a wall of love, And cry. Told that it would be healing, bring closure How Could...
by Xandra O'Neill | Oct 31, 2018 | Sacred Becoming
In semi-sleep the obvious often appears. The joys that have become shoulds. The parts of us that reside deep in our bones. The dreams that have been dormant and are ready to wake. Sometimes, as I find myself drifting off to sleep, a realization or idea strikes me, and...
by Xandra O'Neill | Oct 24, 2018 | Sacred Becoming
I was tired and I was running late and I was ready to reset my day with a cup of coffee. I knew when I made the first wrong turn. The rest just happened to be wrong turns, a web of curvy wood-lined roads, without easy places to turn around or lights to stop and check...
by Xandra O'Neill | Oct 17, 2018 | Sacred Becoming
I’ve been trying to find the words to tell you about the malas. How they all hold a story of their own. How some flow freely, knowing now is the time for their existence to shift from potential to tangible. Others sit, half made for months, and then suddenly...
