Death Lives In the Woods
A sylph and a bumblebee share the air
Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!
I’m so happy you’re here.
This week, we return to the major arcana with Death, who brings the most powerful transformations we ever experience. This card indicates that things are only ever irretrievably lost so that new things can take their place.
Background music: “Hourglass Is Half Full” by The Lizzy Co Show. (What to listen for: this week, I added some dimension to the mix by panning the instruments around in your headphones. Put on the cans and take a ride.)
Sylph
The sylph, she moves through air the way we do;
But do not be confused, she is not us.
Her home is somewhere (to our eyes) brand-new;
Your hands move straight through her, she is nonplussed.
It’s time for her to explain what she is;
She leads you back into the darkened woods.
“I am the air itself, the windy kiss
That makes the apples of your cheeks feel good.”
She knows the bark of each tree that lives here,
Observant as they fall and end their ways.
She sits with nurse-logs as they grow saplings,
She asks them how they feel inside that day.
“If you would make your home here in the trees,
I’ll give Sweet Death a call, she’ll set you free.”
One-Twenty-Eight
Dried, fallen leaves shuffle like nineties kids;
Feet are for dancing, or so says the breeze.
Some leaves need invitations, partner-bids;
Some others run out to the floor with ease.
The BPM, one-twenty-eight, of course;
(It makes it easy for the DJ, girl.)
The two of us, the crowd around, the force
Of bass so loud it makes your damn hair curl.
The hand on the record is made of bones;
Good Death, the Change-Goddess, she is in charge.
Underneath her black hood, silver headphones;
She likes ‘em over-ear, she likes ‘em large.
She plays you many songs, and then it’s time.
She always does her best to make it kind.
The Whites of Your Eyes
The whites of your sweet eyes, they contain lines;
They find a map of sleepless nights and tears.
So angry at the corners, inflamed fire
Trails, tracing, to the iris from your fear.
The colorful island remains untouched;
It watches as the blood floats in the waves.
It cannot help, it does not have enough;
It has resources, but they must be saved.
The angry lines retreat with surrender;
To heal: a quiet period of rest.
Ask sweetly, Death will go where you send her;
Be careful though, she will require a test.
The whites of your eyes deserve to be clear.
It is so safe to heal now. Have no fear.
Bad Bitch
Best recognize a bad bitch as she walks;
Wise folks give her a wide berth on the street.
Her gown is all nine yards, feathered as flocks;
Her style is just divine, it can’t be beat.
The bad bitch glances your way with a grin;
She looks you up and down, evaluates.
She just might take you home. Is that a win?
Or will you learn the truth a bit too late?
When you get close, the bad bitch grabs your wrist;
The underworld is calling, time to go.
You wrench your arm from her grip with a twist;
If she had asked, you would have told her, “No.”
Bad bitch is walking, best keep your eyes down.
Stay quiet ‘til she reaches edge of town.
Bumbledeath
Sweet Death, a humble bumblebee, sails by;
It doesn’t lose its stinger like the rest.
This bumblebee is with you when you die;
It whispers, “This is only the next step.”
This bee can flee its hive and rove the earth;
Sip lush clover, nibble honeysuckle.
Its wings remember how to find return;
On its way home, it stops, tastes a truffle.
Beautiful Death, she brings change where she goes;
She heralds something old yielding to new.
The breeze is where the bumblebee can flow,
Can drift along, alight upon a yew.
This fuzzy little bumblebee, she stings,
But look at all the change her venom brings.
Thank you so much for joining today! If you enjoyed your experience, please tell a friend, leave a tip, or consider a subscription!
All my best,
Love this Lizzy 🩶