Poeaxtry's Prism

Spell. Stone. & Sparks that Ignite Change

Tag: Witchy Journal

  • I Gave the Sun My Grief

    I Gave the Sun My Grief

    This Sabbat, I didn’t write spells in ink or carve runes in wax.

    I just gave the sun my grief.

    Grief; I don’t need it

    I gave it the weight of every father wound I still carry. The kind of pain that isn’t loud anymore, just permanent. The kind that warps your nervous system, your breath, your sense of what people mean when they say they care.

    I offered the fire the fear of abandonment that was planted in me before I could spell the word.

    My father placed that fear in my lap like it was mine to own.

    Like I asked for it.

    Like it wasn’t his to carry.

    He gave me years of waiting, promises with no shape, affection that only lived in voicemail. And silence. So much silence. He made me doubt my own worth in the name of “trying.”

    He made me wait.

    Then made me think it was my fault for expecting him to show.

    I’ve carried that shit for decades. And I’m tired.

    This year, Litha wasn’t about joy or warmth or some golden glow.

    It was about fire.

    And what I could let it take.

    Bye Jake.. I mean Dad

    So I whispered it:

    Take the grief.

    Take the rage.

    Take the pieces of him still embedded in my self-doubt.

    Take the echoes of that porch I waited on.

    Take the hollowed-out child he left behind every other weekend.

    I gave the sun everything I didn’t owe him.

    The grief was both closure and combustion.

    I didn’t write it out as a ritual, it was a ritual. Every breath I let go of, every memory I finally stopped justifying. Every “but he tried” that I no longer believe.

    Let the fire keep it.

    This is the year I stopped seeing my pain as something beautiful and started seeing it as something worth burning.

    It’s not a symbol. It’s not a lesson. It’s not poetry.

    It’s just mine.

    And I don’t want it anymore.

    Maybe that’s what real witchcraft is:

    Not just manifesting joy.

    But letting the fire consume what never belonged to you in the first place.

    Links poetizer Etsy

  • In the Heat I Become; A Litha Journal on Aliveness and Self Discovery

    In the Heat I Become; A Litha Journal on Aliveness and Self Discovery

    What parts of myself feel the most alive under the heat of summer

    It’s the version of me that comes out dripping in sweat. There is dirt under my nails. I hold a rock in my hand. It’s the me who forgets what time it is. I’ve been outside too long. I trace trails with my feet and stories with my eyes. Summer makes me reckless in a soft way. Not chaotic. Not destructive. Just free. The sun makes my skin hum. I feel more real when it’s hot enough to blur the edges of things.

    Water

    I come alive near water. In it. Around it. Listening to the hush and crash of it. Watching the way it sparkles and swallows light and tosses it back up. There’s a version of me that only shows up in July. A version that lets things slide more easily. That laughs more. That eats with bare hands. That lets sweat gather at the back of my neck and doesn’t try to hide it.

    Nature is Demanding

    I complain about the bugs and the heat but I think I like that too. The way nature demands I participate. I like having to move slower. To swat something away. To know I’m not the only thing alive out here.

    The dirt feels like home. The sun feels like a crown. Even when I’m tired. Even when I’m burned out. I am most myself under this fire. My body remembers how to trust itself. My breath gets bigger.

    I don’t just exist in summer. I live in it. I stretch. I bloom. I let the world see me without apology.

    links GoodReads hike

  • I Brought My Full Moon Ritual to Work

    I Brought My Full Moon Ritual to Work

    There’s something deeply bittersweet about missing the moon.

    Every time the full moon rises, I feel a tug at my chest. It is something ancient and soft. It calls me to pause. But most of the time I’m not lighting candles or laying out cloth under its glow. I’m under fluorescent lights instead clocked in doing the work that keeps me afloat.

    So this time I brought the ritual with me.

    Right now, I am sitting under the moon. I am charging my stones. I am not waiting until tomorrow. I am doing it now. This moment is already sacred because I am present. I will renew my intentions and affirmations again tomorrow night. I will continue to recharge these stones monthly under every full moon.

    Lunch Break Spell Work

    On my break, I held stones in my hands. I spoke like someone who already knows their magic is working. I whispered truths I’m ready to live in, not just hope for. I didn’t ask the moon for anything. I affirmed what is already happening. It is already becoming, already mine.

    I set intentions for stability and creative expansion for momentum that doesn’t burn me out. I set intentions for clarity, protection, grounded joy, and long-lasting purpose. I set them not from a place of lacking but from a place of embodiment. I chose each phrase carefully. I viewed them not like a wish list but like an oath.

    Because when we set intentions we’re not begging the universe we’re building it

    We’re saying this is what I am becoming this is what already lives inside me this is what is inevitable because I choose to keep showing up

    Two Stones

    Two stones carried the heart of this moment for me Libyan Desert Glass and Moldavite.

    Libyan Desert Glass, born of heat and impact, is the kind of stone that doesn’t whisper. It tells you that you are building something real. It’s not a stone of fast thrills. It’s about legacy. It’s about a long-term vision and foundations you can return to. That’s why I carry it. It reminds me that the slow, steady burn of my current work is establishing a foundation. This foundation is something my future self can stand on.

    Moldavite that one needs its own moment.

    Moldavite has been sensationalized by TikTok. It’s portrayed as a chaos crystal, a drama bomb, and a remedy for all bad things. There’s a belief that it also makes your exes vanish. But that’s not what it is, not really.

    Moldavite doesn’t repel it calls. It protects. It is beautiful and powerful. It commands respect.

    Amplifies

    It amplifies what you set. If you pair it with panic, it will magnify panic. If matched with unresolved grief or bitter wishes, it magnifies those as well. Just take it all away, and you’ll see what it magnifies. That storm. That purge. That mess. It’s not because it’s evil, but because you told it to.

    Moldavite is a stone of momentum. It says I’ll bring it faster, louder, and now. If you unintentionally focus on chaos, fear, or destruction, it will return that energy. It will echo back in ways that you’re not ready for.

    So I use it carefully.

    With Moldavite, I speak only what I want. I accelerate aligned growth and creative expansion. I gain spiritual clarity and purpose that doesn’t break me.

    Seriously be careful with Her like Cardi B

    And it answers. Always.

    If you’ve ever missed a full moon because life got in the way know this it still sees you.

    And you can still make the moment sacred

    Even if it’s in your work uniform Even if it’s between tasks Even if it’s just a whisper

    It counts

    You count

    And the moon is still so so proud.

    If you can’t perform your full moon ritual outdoors or at work, you can charge your stones differently. Set them on a windowsill during the full moon’s glow. The moonlight will reach them there. It will carry the energy you intend. Just focus on your intentions before you leave.

    And if you miss the full moon altogether, a Selenite charging jar can gently cleanse and recharge your stones anytime. If you want to learn how to make one or buy a beautiful handcrafted jar, just ask . I can connect you with a friend who makes them.

    Links Sabbats Discord