Grit your teeth, witch boy
and let fear wash over your mind
for you are still only learning to tame the tides,
and these waves are too wild
for you to control just yet;
in time, your turn too will come
when saltwater flows through your veins
and even the gods themselves
won’t dare to claim Poseidon as your equal;
for you will domesticate every ocean and every sea,
and fear will become your trident.

So grit your teeth, witch boy
and let confusion take root
for Mother Nature hasn’t taught you all the tricks,
but you will discover them yourself;
until they become as familiar
as the lines running down your palms,
as home, the smell of wet earth;
and roots will slowly grow, bloom, blossom
into leaves and flowers of understanding;
until your bones turn strong and tall as a forest
and your lungs,
fill with the clearest of breaths.

So grit your teeth, witch boy
and let pain sweep you off your feet
for there is no point in keeping them on the ground
when a hurricane hits home;
and perhaps by falling into the sky,
you will learn to master the winds
and soar
past the thunder and clouds of hurt;
past the electricity and dangers of grief;
to feel the warmth of the sun on your face once more.

So grit your teeth, witch boy
and let regret burn you alive;
for your magic will never annul your humanity
and you will often make mistakes,
until the flames of remorse turn you to ashes;
so that you may rise again, o mighty phoenix
stronger and wiser than before;
so that mistakes may sizzle into the ambers of experience;
and regret may become your teacher
in the subject of prudence.

So grit your teeth, witch boy
and defeat every obstacle thrown your way
for you are sorcery and rawness and child of the elements,
but you are still learning.

So grit your teeth, witch boy
grit your teeth and learn all you can
until you understand;
until you know;
and then

bite back.