Nell Aurelia

Nell Aurelia is a writer, performer, mother and counsellor living on Dartmoor, Devon.

Facebook: Nell Aurelia Poetry
Instagram: @nellaureliapoetry

Diary 2021

May I taste the wisdom of the stars,
And be reborn in the heart of the fire,
May I dance like the flames...
May the roaming winds cup my ancestors’ words to my ears
And may I find a mother’s love in the salty embrace of the ocean.
May I act with integrity,
May love be the root of all my communications,
Even when I am offered something other.
May I know every encounter is soul sanctioned/blessed/approved
And contains a gift so I may learn and grow.
May I remember this as often as I can
And may I be gentle with myself when I forget.
May I remember it only ever takes a heartbeat to return,
to change course, to transform.

Extract from: Love (A Summer Solstice Blessing) © Nell Aurelia 2016


Calendar 2021

May I return always to my birthright of joy.
May I know I am love,
May all beings know they are too.
May we return to knowing oneness,
To rising, diving, spiralling in unity.
May the sun light our hearts
And may our dreams be true.
May we know simply:
We are love
And anything is possible.

Extract from: Love (A Summer Solstice Blessing) © Nell Aurelia 2016


Diary 2020

I’m learning that the timeless still moment of listening with love
Has far greater value than being the one who is ‘right’.
And, in that, I’m slowly putting to bed the deep old fear of my little self
That I will not be acknowledged, that my rights, my feelings
Are worthless; layer by layer I feel that ages-old lie crumbling away...
I am chrysalis emerging, a bold beautiful break in the pattern.
I have spun golden self-worth from the straw blades of generations of pain
And I will fly, I will belong to boundless skies of joy, of possibility
To best respect all their steps of what they could manage.
My own grief has left wells, deep chasms
Of a broken open stretched and expanded heart,
Moon by moon they are slow-filling with the honey gold light
Of getting to know and trust my own self
From choosing to walk a labyrinth that never pretended
The path would be without pain.
And I’m learning the clear medicine of ‘No’,
When it is more truthful to all concerned
Than comfort, than ease, than a social-emotional plaster kit.
When ‘No’ is the kindest offering in my altar of everyday.

The Kindest Offering in my Altar of Everyday © Nell Aurelia 2017

I think it is this we came for:
not the grief, it’s the connection in our grief,
the sharing in the vast, aching cycles of change;
not the loss. no:
the tender witness we can be in loss.

I think it is this we came for:
not the sadness, not the confusion,
when the unthinkable happens and all is plunged into darkness,
it’s the reaching out and holding tight to each others hands
in that darkness, if and when it comes;
not the despair, the deep, sharp, bone scattering despair,
but the tenderness of mourning together,
of not turning aside, if and when it comes.

I think it is this that we came for:
to be broken open and still find beauty;
to face death and still know love;
to rediscover our complete connection;
to experience fully grief and joy
and that nothing before or ahead can be lost
in these golden fields of spirit
that cradle us all.
I think it is this that we came for.

I Think It Is This That We Came For © Nell Aurelia 2016


Diary 2019

Listen. For the hills do. Saying:
‘Not this, no... Ah yes, this - now... Now, that...’
The trees creak in appreciation, buzzards circle shrieking: ‘We see, we see.’
What shape does the pattern make?
How can I tell you what this is
A moment to the next. A field.
A clearing in which to rest, to leap forth into something
Spinning out of nothing we know yet -
Doorways whisper: ‘Enter’
Hearts sing: ‘Now’
Feet channel ancestors below, each step and mis-step finds its place;
The spinning, wild spinning knows its centre...
Our weaving begins.

Come in, come in! With all it took to get here...
Come in, come in: what did you leave behind?
There is a place for it here.
Settle down, listen in: what’s stirring?
What’s longing... to stay; to break; to create?
What night owls and morning dawns?
What shadows?
Come in. Sit with me.

Spinning, Wild Spinning © Nell Aurelia 2017

Let it fall away.
Be the agent of your own unravelling.
All that which no longer serves you,
Which your heart is no longer in service to,
Set it free.

Step in, unclothed,
To the waiting void, the warm, falling dark.
Become the earth and seeds of your own discovery;
Birth your heart anew into the tender unknown,
Set it free.

Dive in, gather
Threads of wind and flame, of sea and stone.
Sing them into the copper river of your blood;
Find the lost wishes, and wounds obstructing the flow:
Set them free.

Fine tune your ears.
The bare-branched trees are calling for pause,
For still-gathering, showing us how to curl in and unfold,
Listen to the whispered dream of the worlds below,
Set it free...

Set it Free © Nell Aurelia