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🕯️ The Moon Window & a Storm-Wrought Message

There’s a round window in our bedroom that we lovingly call the Moon Window. It’s the only one in the room—an unblinking eye that opens to the land, the trees, and the wild sky beyond. It’s a place of stillness and seeing, a threshold through which many quiet revelations arrive.

Most mornings, our black cat curls in its hollow, perched like a guardian between realms. She watches the world from this curved ledge while we begin our day. But not this day…

Today, the watch was mine alone.

🌩️ The Branch That Fell in Storm

A few weeks ago, during a thunderstorm, a branch fell outside the Moon Window. I didn’t witness the fall—but I found it later, resting on the earth, its weight absorbed by the grass. I’ve been watching it ever since. There’s something about it that won’t let me look away.

This wasn’t a dead branch drifting down from rot.
This was a storm-wrought release.
Sudden. Inevitable. Sacred.

It fell not in weakness, but in power.
And that makes it an oracle.

ᚲ A Rune in the Grass

Near the moon window, two limbs from a nearby tree feel and broke. This created a rune, arranged into the shape of Kenaz—the fire rune. The Torch. The Opening. The sacred ember of insight and truth. Not placed, not carved—just there, spelled by wind and time into the soil.

It felt like a story left mid-sentence for me to read.

Kenaz is the flame that reveals.
The light of creativity, vision, and soul-seeing.
It is not loud, but it is undeniable.

A Blue Jay’s Near Collision

As I sat in contemplation, gazing out through the Moon Window, a Blue Jay appeared—vivid and alert, feeding on the ground near the Kenaz limbs. And then, something startled it. It took off in flight, arcing upward—

—and came straight toward the window.

Toward me.

At the last moment, it saw me through the glass. It veered off, barely missing the pane. For a split second, we were face to face—separated only by a membrane of air and glass and attention. It saw that it was being seen, and changed course.

And I can’t stop thinking about that moment.

🪞 The Sacred Mirror

It was as if the window became not just a frame, but a mirror between worlds.

It showed me this:

My gaze is not passive.
My witnessing is an invocation.
I am not separate from the world I observe—I am co-creating with it.

Even the Blue Jay—wild, fast, instinctive—adjusted its flight because I was there. Because I was present.

The cat, my usual threshold keeper, wasn’t in the window that day. And maybe that was part of the spell. Maybe her absence allowed something else to pass through.

🌲 The Storm-Wrought Message

I keep returning to the branch. The one that fell in thunder.

Branches like that are not random. They are messages designed by the wind itself. Gifts from the gods of sky and upheaval. They are tools of release and reclamation. This one, lying quietly broken into this rune, feels like it has more to say.

And I’m listening.

What broke away in the storm was meant to.
What remains is ready to become something new.

Blue Jay Message

The Blue Jay brings clarity through sudden presence.
It flew directly toward my window—toward me—but shifted course the moment it saw my gaze.

Message:
You are not invisible. Your presence matters.
Your witnessing holds power.
Trust your ability to interrupt patterns with awareness.

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ᚲ Kenaz Rune Message

Kenaz is the rune of the torch, revelation, and creative fire.
It appeared naturally, formed by fallen limbs—an unspoken glyph of transformation.

Message:
What has been hidden is ready to be seen.
A light is being lit within you.
This is a time of clarity, illumination, and crafting your truth.

---

Together, they say:

Your insight is the flame. Your gaze is the magick.
What flies toward you will shift—because you are awake.
Now: See clearly. Speak truly. Let the soul fire within you guide.

✨ Final Threads

The window is still round. The branch still rests.
The Blue Jay is gone, but the message lingers.
The rune has not moved.
The cat has returned to her perch, watching once more.

But I am changed.

I saw the flight.
I held the gaze.
I recognized the fire rune not just in the grass, but in myself.

Until next time, mystics—
Tend your flame. Trust the fall.
And know that what you see also sees you.

The Inspired Imaginative |   The Devoted Mystic

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