Rites of Passage

Hey Momma

RITES OF PASSAGE ‘Help’ she shrieked. ‘I’m still alive, don’t bury me here, I haven’t died’ The footsteps faded, no-one heard her screams, as she realised then: ‘This is what death means’ Jumping into the abyss of her doubts, and the petty things, she’d stress about. It felt scary, in the bottomless gorge, a turning point, that had to be explored. As the darkness dissolved, shining to light, the dawn of the day, brought new insights. She’d been running away from the fact, living for the ‘date’ had a greater impact. Knowing each day is numbered, was her clue, living life differently, was what she should do. Something ‘primal’ called to her and said” ‘Don’t be sad, there are runes to be read’ Drawing on the strength, of the ‘Uruz’ sign, invoked an unveiling of her heroine inside. A new initiation, with fresh rites of passage. There! a profound rebirth…

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