Merryn Bowman
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merrynbowman.bsky.social
Merryn Bowman
@merrynbowman.bsky.social
20 followers 13 following 74 posts
Mytho-poet. Animist. Ritualist. Storyteller. Sacred Play. OBOD Ovate. Queer Artist & facepainter. Crafting magical items.

Irish-Dumnonian on Ngāti Kahu lands
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merrynbowman.bsky.social
Here in Aotearoa, the tuna (Māori word for eel) are the guardians of the waterways.
Ancient and mysterious. Lurking. They're nearly blind, but their senses are so strong. They're in decline, like the health of their river ecosystem homes.
When I meet one I feel my heart race. I feel blessed. /|\
An eel drawn in a spiral, surrounded by river plants, swirling eddies and life. Art made by me
January 26, 2025 at 3:25 AM
merrynbowman.bsky.social
A fire in the suburbs & the yearning for story and connection /|\
January 20, 2025 at 9:48 PM
merrynbowman.bsky.social
Time spent in water is time well spent /|\ #druidsky #animism #poetry
It was the first time I fished in the Manawatū river, despite living with her for the first eighteen years of my life. Our waters were joined as one, for a long time. If our bodies are 70% water, where else would that come from but her? From the wellsprings and rains that feed her in the Ruahine Ranges, to the ocean she spills into at Foxton Beach, we are each other. I stood there, near a traffic bridge in Palmerston North. There was debris all through her, she was wide, and looked like she should be muddy. I could smell exhaust. But where I was, thigh high near the bank, her waters were clear. The rainbow trout thrived, rising to the surface for a cacophony of life. New green shoots sprouted from fallen trees, dragging with the water in places, sure. But alive nonetheless. Both of our bodies are here. In the space between the damage we’ve done, and the life flourishing despite it.
January 20, 2025 at 9:42 PM