Becky Mackeonis

Poet, artist, dancer, Intentional Creativity teacher, magickal practitioner with a deep calling to share her love for nature. She guides others to an experience of a soul-full, embodied relationship with this extraordinary world. Living in Cornwall, loving the Land.

Facebook: EarthDreamingPoetry

Diary 2021

Grandmother Elder and Hawthorn Sage,
an arched dance through the year
of branch and leaf,
flower and berry;
deep listening and winged messengers,
creating sculptured silhouettes
against the open sky -
a marvel of wave formation,
and at the centre of this ancient tongue,
a hole, encompassing the whole!
A circular window,
a portal, if you will,
to the Otherworld.
But only if you see without eyes,
only if you come as humble apprentice,
only if you leave your comfortable stories behind,
and are willing
to peel back your civilised skin,
allowing the Wild
you have always been to step forth.

Grandmother Elder and Hawthorn Sage © Becky Mackeonis 2018


Calendar 2021

Oh... how I love these hot-cold days of autumn,
as sun and wind merrily compete, and
long shadows and gossamer clouds
bow and curtsey to each other!
How I love the softer light of these days!
No longer the harsh, no-place-to-hide light of summer,
nor yet the sorrowful, weeping light of winter,
but a gentler light,
of mystical clarity,
and deep longing.
And how I love the mellow colours of this time!
The deep greens and royal golds
that clothe the juicy body of the Earth
sensually and voluptuously,
bejewelled with the lush fruits of harvest.
How I love the melancholic bliss of these days,
the abundance
ushering in the turning season.
A call to presence.

Autumn Joy © Becky Mackeonis 2018


Diary 2020

The easterly howls through me
as I stand,
rooted in amongst long-bladed green.
Storm-wet ground gives under my toes,
moulding Herself to my shape and story,
Her initial cold greeting mellowing
into warm companionship.
My soles lean into the dark, damp invitation,
as if desiring to squirrel their way
into moist oblivion,
and I ponder whether ‘tis their pull
that calls me, or Hers.
For a time I fancy I surrender,
but She knows I have not.
Not yet!
Though Her siren song
rises through this vessel
as sure as tree-sap.

Siren Song © Becky Mackeonis 2017

I went into the woods to lose my mind,
and find my soul.
Little did I know that it would not
be me hunting.
Didn’t someone say
‘What you seek is seeking you’?

The mothers stood tall,
patient, loving, wise.
They opened their arms in welcome,
and enfolded me in greens
and golds and browns.
Feathered offerings cushioned my feet,
dawn light washed my face,
and a blissful chorus,
sang me into being.

Raven cawed, as if conducting
the seduction.
I was helpless,
caught in a magical web of my own choosing.
I had never been so lost,
and never so found.

Into The Woods © Becky Mackeonis 2017


Contributors Showcase

In forest deep,
Far from beaten path,
Entwined with trunk and branch
0f ancient tree,
I am ‘met’!

Met by a Wild Rose.

It is as if
She has been waiting for me,
And perhaps She has.
Her delicate beauty, and
Soothing scent
Reach out with more than hand of friendship,
Reach out in invitation, and
I, in need, accept.

Finding soft welcome
On green carpeted floor,
I sit,
Arranging this awkward body as best I might.
I settle,
I quieten,
I breathe.
The Wild Rose
A gracious host,
Is patient with me,
She simply…
holds Herself in readiness,
Soaking up the dappled sunlight.

Finally, I turn my gaze to Her,
To Her generous, five petalled offering,
Her subtle colours of Love,
Her greening robe.
She is…

The more I look,
The more my eyes truly open,
The more I see Her
See Her with inner eyes,
See Her with soul eyes.
I find my heart
Expanding beyond the confines of my chest,
Making my own offering,
Inviting Her to speak.
Tears start to roll down my cheeks
Like some warm, salty spring
Of holy water,
Blessing long parched soil,
And honouring long forgotten

Time seems to
Hold its breath,
As I rest into being
With this Being.

I am so entranced,
So enthralled,
So ‘Met’
By this Wild Rose,
That I do not notice
My fragile skin loosening
And falling
To forest floor,
Like autumn leaves
Rushing to their new love.
I do not feel
The ground ivy, and fern
As they tentatively creep into the newly revealed
Nooks and hollows of my flesh.
I do not recognise
My feet sending out
Roots of request,
Or the bluebells sprouting
From my toes.
Nor do I hear the buzz
Of the shy bumble bee
As it dances
From flower to flower
Now blossoming in my hair.
All this vibrant, glorious life
Embraces me fully,
And I?
I am undone.

The boundaries of my human self
Explode, and
In this moment,
For this moment,
For as long as I live,
For love of the Wild Rose,
I am become Her,
And She has become me.
I am home!

(Becky Mackeonis, Earth Dreaming Arts, May 2020)

For Love of the Wild Rose © Becky Mackeonis

I asked the Land
to speak to me of these times
and willingly She replied.
“How you see changes everything.”

I looked,
and saw a world in crisis,
gripped by the ominous hands
of fear and greed,
I looked,
at a humanity that had lost its way
self-isolating from
its most fervent aid
and loving support,
and succumbing to a self-fulfilling prophecy.
My heart ached
and despair hovered.

“How you see changes everything!”
She whispered again.

Then, I looked
where the Land directed,
I saw new growth emerging
from death and decay;
I saw branch and leaf
sun-illuminated, sparkling as bright as any diamond
and of more worth;
I saw deep-rooted trees
wind-swaying, seemingly knowing
their dance with the air
was their security;
I saw delicate feathered ferns
unfurling from tight-fisted clench
as if relaxing with a sigh;
I saw trunk and branch
supporting life and giving
shelter to others willingly, and
I heard crow calling
There is deep magic here.”

I inhaled with the trees,
I exhaled with the trees,
sacred reciprocity,
harmonious balance,
light and dark
in a never-ending waltz.

I looked,
and saw not with eyesight,
but with a vision
that spoke my truth.

She was right…

How you see changes everything.

Blessed Be

(Becky Mackeonis, Earth Dreaming Arts, March 2020)

How You See Changes Everything (inspired by the Land and a quote from Meggan Watterson) © Becky Mackeonis

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come.

I will come carried by the summer breeze,
I will come bathed in the rays of the sun,
I will come robed in vibrant greens, and
adorned with purples and pinks,
reds and oranges, and
crowned in white.

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come.

I will come in the glorious melodies of the dawn chorus,
I will come in the intoxicating scent of Elder in bloom,
I will come in the gentle hum of bees on a summer’s day,
their small furry bodies dancing between
waiting flowers, joyfully drinking
golden nectar.

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come.

I will come in hovering wings of a hunting kestrel,
I will come in the graceful bounding of a fallow deer,
I will come in the keen eyed gaze of a curious weasel,
watching you intently for a moment
before disappearing into the
wild undergrowth.

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come.

I will come in the morning mist softening the start of day,
I will come in the humid air caressing your face,
I will come in the golden beak and velvet feathers
of the cheeky blackbird
eagerly tapping damp soil
to uncover a tasty meal.

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come.

I will come in the silver light of a full moon,
I will come in the delicate beauty of the wild rose,
I will come in the comfort of the sleeping cat
curled upon your lap
purring in contentment,
his soft fur brushing your hands. …

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come.

I will come and wash away your cares,
I will come and soothe your troubled mind.
I will come and tend your pain and hurt.
Hush child,
I will come and embrace you in Love never ending.

Be still and quiet, and
I will come,

And you will see the kin you have been blind to,
you will feel that which you have so feared to feel,
you will hear the call to return home,
into the arms of we who have been waiting so long,
and with such love,
for you to awaken from your slumber.

Sit still and quiet, and
I will come
to you.

(Becky Mackeonis, Earth Dreaming Arts, 22 June 2021)

These core words came as I was sitting under the Elder tree in my herb garden. A Solstice gift, a message from the Earth shared through Grandmother Elder. As I wrote down the initial words I realised that this was a poem that could go on and on, almost everything I looked at or that caught my eye became a possible line in the poem, a way in which Nature, Earth comes to me in relationship and love. I realised too that these were my experiences, and that though some may resonate with you, others may not, and that you would, in any event, have your own if you felt into it. So, the three dots are there as an invitation to write a line of your own, or a verse even, creating a poem that is a conversation between the Earth and ourselves, giving and receiving, praising and acknowledging the ways in which we can experience that relationship.

I will Come © Becky Mackeonis

Sun and wind
lap the edges of my awareness.
Trees dance,
clouds race the blue,
birds sing, and
insects buzz
so as to make the air fizz
with life.
All these
tell me I am here,
Yet the world feels different too,
as reminders
of our fragility,
our vulnerability,
our transience
seep through
porous skin and salted tears,
ringing bells
in grief and celebration
of this life;
a refresher course
in Love’s chief demand
and our greatest challenge…
to allow ourselves to love
deeply and fully,
though it crack open
our hearts
when that we love is lost,
even then,
to turn toward the pain
and love again.

(Becky Mackeonis ‘Earth Dreaming’ June 14 2018)

Love’s Demand © Becky Mackeonis

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
The Ones,
The Ones who tend,
The Ones who honour,
The Ones who keen.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
To serve
As once we did
Lifetimes ago,
When Her power and magic
Were revered,
We knew ourselves.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
To rekindle the flame,
Light the torch,
Bless the offerings.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
Her coiled energy
Stirs cauldron waters,
Breathing life into
Forgotten memories,
Lost knowing,
Hidden being.
Her coiled energy
Stirs cauldron waters,
Wearing down defences,
Washing away doubt,
Cleansing vision, that
Her shining might radiate
Through ancient portal
Light-bursting into
Eternal rainbow threads,
Weaving in and out,
Around and between us,
A web of deep connection,
A bond of loving community,
A cloth of Soul-full colour.
Eternal rainbow threads
That shimmer with joy,
Hum with excitement, and
Sparkle with delight.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
Her primal power
Vibrating through drum and song,
Shaking the very earth
With Her deep resonance,
While bodies move
And muscles speak
The old tongue.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
And as we threshold cross,
The ancients
Throng through
Embodied voice,
Demanding we awake,
We re-member,
We act.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
Into alignment,
Into balance,
Into harmony.

She is gathering us,
Calling us back,
To bare witness
To Her rising,
And to rise again

(Becky Mackeonis, Earth Dreaming Arts, May 2019)

She Is Gathering Us © Becky Mackeonis