Beltane Fire: Blossoming from the Inside Out

Today, the wheel turns through the wild heart of Spring.
The earth — no longer whispering — sings.
It is Beltane: the midseason gateway where fire meets flower,
where spirit descends into flesh
and the world bursts forth in holy bloom.

I feel it in my limbs —
this uprising of green sap,
this ache of petals pushing through the dark.
The Word stirs, not as thought but as pulse,
a rhythm of sacred delight
writing itself through my bones.

Beltane is the kiss between sky and soil.
It is the dance of opposites:
sunlight tracing the skin,
root reaching for water,
longing igniting form.
It is the yes of creation.

Today I remember:
My body is not separate from the orchard’s blossom,
not other than the fire kindled at dawn.
I am a creature of the Sacred Union —
a fertile field where Spirit plants its song.

So I light a flame — inward and outward —
and let it warm the altar of my life.
I move with the wind, sing with the birds,
touch the tender blooming that is mine to tend.
I say yes to the sacred pleasure of being alive
in this season of Becoming.

Blessed Beltane.
May what is ripe in you come forth in joy.