Many of us had a Possidonia once—some version of a wild, wise, quietly rebellious self we conjured when the world around us felt too small. The way you described her—curious, kind, flying not to escape but to see—felt like a mirror held to something I forgot I once carried.
The line “She let me be wild in a place that rewarded quiet” struck deep. That tension between containment and freedom… it lingers even now.
Thank you for sharing this spell. It reminded me that the parts of us we think are lost often just shift form. Maybe we don’t need the broom anymore. But it’s beautiful to remember we once did—and that we knew how to ride it.
This is beautiful. I will listen to it again.
Thank you, Elcira 🖤
Many of us had a Possidonia once—some version of a wild, wise, quietly rebellious self we conjured when the world around us felt too small. The way you described her—curious, kind, flying not to escape but to see—felt like a mirror held to something I forgot I once carried.
The line “She let me be wild in a place that rewarded quiet” struck deep. That tension between containment and freedom… it lingers even now.
Thank you for sharing this spell. It reminded me that the parts of us we think are lost often just shift form. Maybe we don’t need the broom anymore. But it’s beautiful to remember we once did—and that we knew how to ride it.
Thank you, Lily 🖤