Blossoming Love

A tryptych.
Part 1. The symbolism is not lost on me.
Roses

Once I answered the door to a huge bunch of beautiful flowers. I was delighted, I’d never had flowers delivered before and rarely received them at all.

I cried when I read the card.

I still have not had flowers delivered from a lover.

They were “good luck for your upcoming show” flowers for my (then) husband.

Now I buy myself flowers. This month it is roses. Roses for me. Roses for the goddess. Roses for the divine being that I am.

Part 2. Beauty can be found in unexpected places.
Golden statue of Freya, lit by candlelight

I’d turned my world upside down and left my marriage, my home, my life, only a month before. I needed to finally reclaim my sensual self from wherever I’d left it in the previous decade.

I needed a guide.

I was looking for an icon of my golden goddess, an icon for the goddess of passion, as Freya, who holds sex, magic, war, beauty and love.

I’d almost given up.

There, through an open doorway, she waved at me. In a charity shop. Someone else’s cast-off… And she was Perfect.

A spiralling vision of elegance rising from the earth… A golden beauty. A reflection of the divine possibilities that I hold.

Part 3: And we rebuild our magic, create a new story.
A single dried red rose, a symbol of hope, love, and romancing myself.

The following Valentine’s day I bought myself a single red rose. A reminder that I didn’t need any one else to give me pleasure. I didn’t need to wait for beauty. I hold that power in my own hands.

You hear it often enough; please yourself.

Well, I do believe I will.

Praying at the altar of love, beauty, and sensuality.

Published by Ms Quin

Author of Twisted; Honest reflections of a kinky witch.

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