The hearth may have seemed quiet, but behind the veil, the fire was alive—crackling, whispering, reshaping. This wasn’t a pause. It was a passage.
I haven’t been idle, though much of what’s unfolded hasn’t been for public eyes. The Work has continued—deep, initiatory, and at times disruptive. Hermes has been close, stirring the coals, shifting the path beneath my feet. And in His way, with that wry smile and unexpected timing, He’s reminded me: not all revelations belong to silence forever.
There are chapters that resist the page until they’re fully lived. I’ve been living one.
And now… I feel the edge of return—not a grand unveiling, but a soft reemergence. The voice of Papa Onyx coming back to the circle. The ember becoming flame. Thoughtseeds will rise again—some playful, some piercing. The sacred categories will stir: Deities, Symbols, Guides. But I’ll begin gently, without rush or performance. The fire knows its own rhythm.
If you’ve been walking your own tangled path, dancing with your own Trickster, know that you are not alone. And if you’re arriving here for the first time—welcome. Sit with me. Listen close. There’s more to come.
The fire never went out.
~ Papa Onyx
