Full Moon Blessings

The dark house was shivering. A normal case of full moon impact. The old witch was getting ready to fly out. Her enchanted broom smiled. He knew her so well. Well, well, well. The children of the world were sleeping. At least pretending to. A bit naughty und ready for the unusual as children are. One eye open, one eye closed, with a sweet smile on their little faces. The witch felt their call for some magic. 'Okay, okay, I am coming', she whispered.

All eyes on her, her queen The Witch. She took her enchanted servant and moved her old but sexy legs. Yes, it is a well kept secret, but most old witches have been sexy all their lives and still are. They do not need botox or any artificial means to stay on top of the beauty industry. Let us ensure that this is known for good. No wrinkles no patterns of old age. Just the label old on the legs, but that is also just a matter of perception.

The witch analysed the sky. It would be a perfect moment to visit the wonders of the air and make some lasting impressions. The children felt that something was about to happen. Something good. They all had looked forward to witnessing this. The witch opened her eyes a little bit more. Dark eyes. Full of passionate visions that have touched the universal laws of being. Approved and already taking place in some dimensions.

She paved the way for the younger generation of witches and gave the children something to dream about. The enchanted broom invited her on one of her most magic flights. The moon looked like a well fed belly. Round and rounder. Content, simple content to be. She shouted out loud and she loved that. Everyone from Tokyo, over New York to Europe, heard her sound. The children danced with their feet. A signal of readiness for the unexpected blessings of childhood wonder.

Like an airplane she made circles in the air. Pure witchcraft. Art on a higher level. Let us leave some room to fly to the top. The enchanted broom served her to his best abilities. Other witches observed the scene and were grateful to be part of her tribe. They showed her that they loved her performance and the song of the witches echoed through the night. The children danced. Cute parts in a moment of surrendering.

She was the master. In her own natural way. Confident, strong and balanced on her unique enchanted broom. It was if somehow she was bringing seeds of learned lessons to the smallest hearts and souls, also called children of the world. Small beans - a size of a coffee bean - fell like rain drops down to earth and touched the hearts of the cutest ones. They received magic power to behold. 

A gift so pure and so strong. Just like that. The morning after these kids had the same natural abilities as the old witch. These abilities would protect them during their lifetime. They only had to promise that they would make a difference in the world. They could fail and step up again. That did not really matter. The old witch and the enchanted broom loved their mission and made many more flights under the shining moon.

By Liesbeth Leysen