A Letter From Shakti


This came up during ceremony, a letter from Shakti to me.


I am grit.

I am pure, raw energy.

I rage

I create

I pulse

I claw

I scream

I dig

I bury

I gestate

I birth

I howl

I taste

I hear.


All of the pleasure

All of the pain.


I see

I feel

I love

I orgasm

I desire

I burst

I pleasure

I fuck

I don’t give a fuck

I create

I mix

I alchemize

I magnetize.


I am one with nature

The dirt

The green.


I relish

I sweat

I am water

I am bones

I am preverbal

I have no language

I am raw, animal instinct

I follow my desire

fuel my intention










I climb, claw, ascend

Up from the Earth

Into you

You are my home




April Aronoff


The Forgotten Sense/Poem To My Yoni



You have forgotten me

shut me out

put up yellow tape,


“No trespassing,”

“Do not enter.”


Entangled vines

high frequency cries

from unknown creatures

dwelling inside.

An eco-system pulsing and untouched.


I spread my legs wide

and peer inside

and gasp at the

light within me.

 Pearly walls

butterfly wings

lotus lips.

A rabbit hole leading somewhere

I can imagine in my mind,





I was born with you

and I will die with you.

Whole cultures rally shame

around your very existence.

But you are simply

just another part of me,

like a finger

a tongue

an eye.

Tools I would never consider disregarding,

so why do I disregard you?


If I can touch

and taste

and see,

why should I deny

that which is my life-force,

my birthright?


The forgotten sense,

That’s what you are.

A sense I know only

the barest surface of.


Slowly, I remove the tape.



April Aronoff


Blessings Of Compassion


Mother (Earth)-

Show me your grace, ease,

like thick liquid pouring

through every space and crevice

of my anatomy,

scouring away resentment,

anger, fixity,

polishing what is light

and bright and love

within me,

like a river so cold and clean

one drop anoints thee,

so what begins as desire

ignites this body,

as deep and familiar

as cells dividing,

memories unfolding,

dreams remembered,

of a life as She.



 April Aronoff

Photography By April Aronoff

The Magic Of The Three/January Flower Bowl


My Wish:

To be a beautiful flower at the height of abundance,

every stem, cell and fiber

an outpouring of beauty and love;

To be a ladybug, pulled by scent to feed from that flower,

knowing that its life giving tonic will fertilize and inspire;

To be what lies between when the two come together,

a transferring of life and symbiosis from one being to another;

That is the magic of the three.



April Aronoff

Photography By April Aronoff

The Dance With Addiction and How I Learned to Love Myself (sort of)


So I have decided, in the midst of feeling like addiction has kicked my butt, and that typically in this situation I would spiral to a place of anxiety and depression, that I am really, truly awesome.  I know that much change needs to take place in order regain solid ground.  What I don’t want to do is beat myself up for the dance I do with addiction.  Because that’s exactly what this is, a dance.  Back and forth, up and down.  No control, great control, total balance, total chaos.  The full gamet of possibilities I do with this dance partner of mine.  But it is what it is.  Whatever direction I am walking in, whether it be the path of inner peace or one of great fury, I have to believe I know how to lead my way.  That wherever I am, it is exactly where I am supposed to be.  So for right now, I am dancing with addiction and its kicking my butt.  But I am deciding I am really, truly awesome.  And that I believe in myself each day, no matter the decisions I make.  My goal is always to let go, ignite, and evolve.  It is my mantra.  And for now dancing with addiction is part of this process.


April Aronoff

Photography by April Aronoff

Another Green Sign That Spring Is Yet To Come


These are narcissus shoots, bulbs that I bought last Spring of 2015, at the time planted in tiny stones inside a pretty glass container.  The plump shoots were close to blooming when I bought them, and the whole effect of luscious shoots+planted in tiny stones+ inside a clear glass jar was a sirens song I could not resist.  I kept them for many weeks, even long past their gorgeous bloom, cutting off the tops so that I would still have a bounty of green inside a clear glass jar.  I kept cutting off the tops, and the plants grew smaller and smaller until I finally had to admit they were done.  Then I the put the whole plant outside, intending to deal with it later, but never did.  The root system had grown quite a ways by the time I got around to it, something that was clearly visual in the jar, and not so attractive to look at.  I finally pulled the bulbs out, cut off the roots and left them on my outdoor deck, again with the intention of planting them.  By the time I discovered them many months later I assumed they were ruined.  And then I forgot about them.

Until yesterday.

It has been raining here for several days now, our yard a mess of weeds more than we’ve ever seen since we’ve lived in this house of almost 3 years.   As I glanced outside yesterday, I saw on our picnic table a flower pot completely full of water, 6 green stalks popping through the glassy top.  I stared for a minute and then it hit me:  the narcissus!  They had not died!  In fact, they had gloriously gone on, despite my abandonment of them.  One of the bulbs had fully rotted, but the rest were well alive.  Here they all are, re-potted:


Another bountiful sign for Spring.  Another sign that Imbolc is approaching, the time of year where the light shines longer in a 24 hour period.  The time of preparation for birth, the time of emergence.  As the light grows, so does the seed.  Light is the nourishment that feeds the seed to grow roots, veins, shoots, buds, and flowers.  It invades every cell of a plant, with the outcome a spectacular beauty provided to every sense a human can possess.  I freely admit I am already craving Spring.  I smell it in the air and the linger of water that clings to the leaves, a faint mix of dead with the newest forms of life; tiny buds I can palpate with my finger, little green leaves poking out the tiniest curl.  They are everywhere in my yard.  Some I can see, some I cannot.  The rain has helped my plants look more lush than I’ve ever seen them.


In this time when I find life to be kicking me in the behind, I can sit with these gorgeous shoots and know that Spring is near.  That the time of rebirth is imminent.  I can’t wait until it is more underway, the first of my roses giving gorgeous blooms with scent that makes me swoon.  Too deepen with my roses, knowing that I am Their Keeper, the holder of Their frequency and magic.  Roses are the ultimate Love.  While I am not yet there (feeling ultimate love that is), I know this is so.

Blessings to New Life  🙂

April Aronoff

Photography By April Aronoff


How Orchids Saved My Spirit

This winter has been a dark time for me.  Death, addiction, relationships, new livelihood.  The big arenas of my life have been shifting and changing steadily.  Yet I feel stagnant, as the outer me has not caught up with the inner one.  And the days have been long!  5 pm rolls around it feels like there is too much time left, too much wakefulness left to know what to do with.  It’s anxiety really, anxiety about so much big stuff rolling like a giant wave I can scarcely keep my balance.  Self-criticism has begun to seep in, I am keenly aware of this.  And just when I think it will never end, that the darkness will go on forever, I see this:

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And I’m floored.  This is an orchid bloom.  And it’s not the only one, there are others:



And all my self-doubt melts away like butter in the sun.

IMG_3945And I feel the light begin to return, a little flicker ignited within upon seeing these spectacular orchids.  Orchids that my beautiful friend Allison gave me so many years ago.  Allison passed on October 25 of 2015.  I miss her everyday and send her blessings frequently when I meditate.  These orchids have never performed like this, have never looked so amazing.  One of my indoor orchids is even beginning a stalk!

IMG_3970.JPGI cherish this light, and promise to cradle and nurture its growth as we approach Imbolc/Candelmas on February 1 st.  Imbolc/Candelmas is a holdiay for many, as this is when there is actually more light than dark in a 24 hour period, a sign that spring is just around the corner.


May the light shine 🙂


April Aronoff

Photography By April Aronoff

Into The Rainbow Soul


Sliding down the rainbow into a Pot of Gold,

Swimming in the ocean and feeling the vastness of Her womb,

Calling for sight and smell to overwhelm my senses,

For Love to gush from my heart,

Like a fruit so ripe it bursts into sweetness,

The moment it touches my tongue.

IMG_1424 (1)


April Aronoff

Photography by April Aronoff

Stepping Into The Flames of Change

photo 3 (12)

2016 is the year I will ignite change.  It is the year I will end one phase and begin another, leaving many old patterns and ways of life behind.  I create this intention now.


This vacation has been wonderful in many ways; I have spent pleasant time with both my boys, an act that is always far and few between, have lusciously slept late in the morning, and have visited with friends and family.  I am blessed!  But I have also been incredibly indulgent with my addictions, leaving me drowsy and sluggish.


As I inch closer and closer to the fire, leaving less space to flee, run, post-pone, my body becomes heavy with all that has surfaced for burning.  It’s a pregnant feeling, although instead of giving birth to life I will be giving birth to death.  As excited I am by this process, there is a piece of me that wants to post-pone, flee, do anything to avoid.  It feels daunting, like climbing to the apex of a very steep mountain.  The end result will be beautiful, I know!  Yet the struggle remains.  There is a huge piece of me that is scared I may fail, yet, as I wrote in the poem below, to not try is akin to death.


April Aronoff

Photography By April Aronoff

Poem link here:



Jump-A Poem



Why is it so hard to get the words

from here to there?

They are shouting across a chasm,

begging for a rope or a bridge,

anything to take them to the other side

where they can finally come alive,

living, breathing, and dictating a life

that is bursting to be heard.


Then I hear it:

“You can do it,” the voice tells me,


The chasm is deep and wide,

and I lose my sense of balance

as I stare into its nothingness.

“Jump,” it tells me again,

“You can do it, don’t look down.”

I shift my line of vision up 90 degrees,

the other sides features fuzzy,

but with outlines I can clearly see.

“Jump!” the voice says more firmly, “Do it, Jump!”

There is no guarantee I will make it,

no way of knowing if I will land breathing

or made up of bloody pieces,

but the thought of not trying is death.

“Jump!” the voice is now yelling, “Do it now, jump!”

I take a deep breath and close my eyes,

a vision appearing despite my sudden loss of sight,

every ounce of my blood alive,

and get a running start

and Jump.



April Aronoff

Photography By April Aronoff