Lucy Pierce

the spring, the doll and the gang gang cockatoo

Every 3 weeks we travel to the purest spring we have ever known, the well spring at the top of Mount Donna Buang in Warburton, Vic.  We went yesterday to draw water for our ceremony on Friday night and for new essence creation. Often when I visit I will leave a spirit doll to thank the spring but to also thank the other visitors to this sacred place - the water freaks/ enthusiasts! Every time we visit we meet another water lover and this time it was a man in his 60s who was riding a motorbike across Australia. As soon as he tasted the spring he began to fill every container he had with him for his travels. He told me he'd never tasted anything as good.

The doll I gave to the Spring and her friends was Healing Spirit, a medicine doll that I'd finished on the weekend after attending the Wurundjeri Welcome to Country ceremony. The doll was with me as I'd passed through the welcome smoke and I was fascinated to hear in the ceremony that along with the gift of Fire to welcome visitors to their lands, the Wurundjeri also gave visitors water. I have no doubt this spring has been known and held sacred to the Wurundjeri for a long long time. 

I placed the doll under a small fern just behind the spring and prepared to leave when a family of Gang Gang Cockatoos began to call and one ancient grandfather landed and sat in the small fern above the spirit doll. I had never seen this type of Cockatoo at the spring before and he sang and spoke to us before flying down to the spring itself and drinking from it.  When I gift dolls at the spring I leave a little note to let people know that this doll is a gift for visiting this sacred place. And here is the beautiful family that found her! The family of local artist Lucy Pierce and her babies. I was thrilled. Lucy is a dear sister and her sculpture was a beautiful element of our ceremony held last year for the women and babies of the Magdalene Laundries at Abbotsford Convent. It felt very right that this doll would come to live with Lucy and her family.  

In these changing times there is so much being released but there are so many gifts to be received. I think we are all finally learning to appreciate simplicity again and receiving pleasure from small treasures made with care. And we can all play a magical part in this weaving with the universe. What small treasure can you gift to someone this week? I love to hear these stories of how a mysterious gift can be just what is needed to really lift someone's  spirit.  The morning after finding the doll, Lucy contacted me - there were Gang Gangs singing in her backyard.

Oceans of love to you all for your New Moon blessings. If you are joining us on Friday night please bring along a special cup or glass to share in the watery goodness of this ancient spring - water is life! 


Let it Go, Let it Flow - journey and meditation circle to farewell the year of the Water Snake.  

Gang Gang Grandfather blessing Healing Spirit with his song
Lucy and her family after finding the doll by the spring

Soulskin Poetry for the Magdalenes

Photo: Kylie 'Ma Bower'








Fragments of Light Returning

Such a gentle and holy reclamation
of power and birthright,
so exquisitely feminine and encompassing,
allowing the deep grief to gently swell and fall
knowing the futility of drowning in the depths
of the horror of withheld love,
only humbly touching the edges
of that unfathomable pain
of lives lived in such shadow.
So gently we danced,
like fragments of light
upon the surface of the well,
summoning that which longed to move
from that place beneath,
from the deep waters.
As we summoned our strength
from the wellsprings of memory,
through  the dappled sunlight of ancient green
forests of the heart,
seeking the seer,
reclaiming the word,
reforming the container,
stronger now and more true.
A radiant gathering of pilgrims we were,
with brimming hearts and a myriad of colours
displayed in our feathers,
in the twinkling eye 
and the joy of our togetherness,
the sweetness of it a flame 
so artfully tended
by that Lady of the Swan,
she of the water and the word,
awakening.
We journeyed deep, deep into the past
and returned ancient and wise
and more free than we had been when we left,
we returned with animal companions,
a wild menagerie in our midst,
and with us the wise ones of our blood-lines,
all gathering, strong and open,
to aid the passage of the women and children
of the Magdalene Laundries.
With a raucous reverence we walked,
we drummed and we rattled,
we danced and we sang.
Beloved sister the beacon 
and shepherd of our song.
Our bejeweled feet thumping their love
through the foundations
to caress the bones that lay below.
Gathering into the heart of our mighty sound
the lost and the silent,
the trapped and forgotten ones,
the ululation of our feelingness
enlivening the air
awakening the unseen
and calling them to return
as we wind our way back now,
to the ancient river, sparkling.
The trees bending close to hear,
swaying and dancing with the glistening sunlight,
their celebration and resonance
with this timely passage of freedom.
Our voices still entwining,
weaving the warp and the weft of the basket
that would be their boat.
And by the waters edge,
our taproots entwining with the roots
of that vast and ancient tree of life
in the heart of the Earth, our Mother.
Silent now, deep in the medicine of this mystery,
the sole voice, so intimately sweet,
the song resounding from she
who is so strong to be so soft and still be heard.
And we feel them finding their own way now,
the one's that would come,
the Magdalenes, the forgotten ones,
home to the Waiting One’s,
the air alive with the subtle vibrations of their release,
the bindings falling free,
the light returning to that which has dwelt
so long in the shadow.
Wordless now and feeling the fine filaments of love,
entraining the universe,
as though there was suddenly more room
for sunlight and love,
more room for forgiveness
and fearless becoming.

Lucy Pierce © 201
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Lucy is the artisan who created the sculptures of mother and child in the centre of our medicine circle at the convent. You can see more of her living sculptures (to me they look like they are almost breathing), exquisite poetry and artisan treasures at Soulskinmusings and www.lucypierce.com.
'Together' by Lucy Pierce 

Swan Blessing - Retrieval of the Dreamer

Drumming the Moon - Lucy Pierce

This morning I received a most treasured gift - a poem written by artist, Lucy Pierce after her experience journeying with the Swan Blessing at Seven Sisters Festival. I too felt the presence of Horse at the festival and I was so glad to see that this totem of the Spirit had also come to assist Lucy as she journeyed back to Retrieve the Dreamer. Since Seven Sisters Lucy has visited me in the forest to take a personal journey with the Swan again and I am very excited to see the art that births from Lucy and her Dreamer in the coming months ahead.

In past lifetimes, many of us have bound our wisdom of sacred art and her symbols. These esoteric teachings are our birthright and in this lifetime we are free to share them with fearless love again. I am always honoured to assist artists and musicians to clear past life contracts binding free self-expression. It is often the voice of the artist that sings to the world from the crest of the Wave of Change, they are the Seers of the future.

You can see the full beauty of Lucy's creations here and purchase your very own prints and sculptures at her Etsy store.

Thank you dear Lucy for sharing this potent poem - your vision, your purpose, your authority, your love... I could hear the quickening like a drumbeat of Horse Hoof on the Earth as I read it.

She Meets Herself

Retrieval

Like an unsung song I have always known,
I have experienced myself to be riddled
with incomplete spaces
and unlived places within.
As though essential clues were still buried,
deep inside the body,
indecipherable codes and locks and holds,
camouflaged and obscure,
deflecting light and attention and love.
And now like an awakened crusade,
I have mounted my stead and bare-breasted I ride,
powerful and fierce and exquisitely soft inside,
into the darkness of my history,
back through the gateways
of my deaths and my births,
eyes piercing the shadows,
anchored within the womb,
my vigilant sentry,
ancient seer, awakened.
The rhythmic stride of my mount unrelenting,
senses strained to their full,
I am retrieving myself piece by piece,
unbinding the vows of my past,
reclaiming the power held captive
beyond the reach of my memory.
I am calling her home to me
She who carries her medicine,
She who hungers to be seen,
She who knows the heart-seed of her purpose,
the unfolding mystery of being home
in the throne-room of her soul.
From between the plump, sticky folds of my motherhood,
my Huntress awakens,
sleek and honed
and dark as the night.
She is retrieving the Dreamer
to the heart of life,
searching for She who sees the vision
and holds within her,
clear and true and easefull
the capacity to respond.
The heavy compass of authority
swinging from the outer to within.
It is time and there is no other path
but this focused reclamation of myself ,
of my vision, my purpose,
my dream, my response,
my authority,
my love.
Lucy Pierce