Face to face and silver silence

Fills the spaces left between us.

In the mind our eyes will wander,

See therein love’s sweetest pleasure.

 

Nerves are bad – my tongue is frozen –

Still my heart is speaking volumes.

In our veins the blood grows warmer;

By degrees the sun gets nearer.

 

How can I make real what’s happened

There between us, in the dream world;

Lest we find a hidden moment

Just to slip within the ocean?

 

So, the truth– there’s no denying -

When I’m with you all is fading

To a pale, unfocused shadow,

Of itself, while you are shining

Like a star.

 

But I must hide this

thrill I feel

when you’re beside me.

 

When we meet I’ll give you kisses,

Brush each cheek in swift succession.

As my scent becomes your aura,

Both your arms could pull me closer.

 

Charismatic Rays just blind me,

Touch upon my racing heartbeat.

Hold me tight – I’ll melt in stages -

Sink into the sea of changes.

 

Now you know the slightest trigger

Might unleash a storm within me,

Bring us into new dimensions.

When we kissed I learned you simply

Make me whole.

Now I must wonder,

How can this be put asunder?

 

Maybe when the days have lengthened,

Reached a point – mid-summer’s evening –

We shall find ourselves reflected,

There – upon the bridge of twilight -

In the waters deep and tranquil,

Streams that mingle, once divided.

 

While I watch you speak my eyes fall

Down onto your mouth, as always;

Search your face and try to listen,

Try to stop myself from losing

All control.

I long to kiss you.

 

Both my lips are wet from wanting

You.

You feel the nervous tension

And it makes you want to draw me

Near -

Upon your knee, quite slowly,

Smile and laugh to soothe the tempest.

 

Throw your arm around my centre,

Cast a whisper in my shell-like

Ear,

And see the stars in my eyes;

See the way you rock me, world-wise.

 

Feel the way my thighs, relaxing,

Curve around your hips like liquid.

Then my arms uncoil, like vine leaves

Wind across your chest and shoulders.

 

As I breathe you feel me quiver -

Shake inside and out, get shivers -

Hairs on end are poised for action,

Secrets of this wild attraction

Are revealed.

At last you see me.

Now you know the love flies freely.

 

No more ghosts -our worlds, dissembled -

Merge as one while we just tremble.

 

 

When Dawn broke my sleep with a light, golden spear,

Out peeled the bell o’er my hypnotised head.

My eyes opened wide as I sat up in silence,

Raising the silver shield up from my bed.

 

The bright, ruby ring I had plucked from the deep stream -

Blood of a rosebud that sparkled in my eyes -

Finely it glimmered, a star pink as sunrise.

 

By the night river of clear running water,

I had watched servants weave garlands of wonder,

Maidens make ready for dancing and feasting,

Faerie-folk tending the flowers of summer.

 

Somewhere were singing the undines…. A page-boy

Whispered of treasure to those who could listen,

Spoke of a ring that endowed one with wisdom

 

All who would go there were seeking this treasure -

Moonlight enraptured the realm of enchantment -

Nowhere directions for those without vision -

Lost beyond time in a place of deep dreaming.

 

Fed by the fountain of memories, like snow-flakes,

They watched without seeing in shadows of knowing,

Drank without thinking a draught of forgetting.

We pull an unwinding thread through to the centre and destroy all monsters.

By the silver cobweb we retrace our steps, slowly through the darkness without shadow.

The sun rises; water evaporates to mist. Freedom beckons, love cries and there, a rainbow, frames the hidden gateway.

Paths unfold before our feet….

Across the bridge of twilight space dissolves.

All is transfixed in perpetual motion, beyond the borders of time.

Only eternity, silent and golden, is present within us, beckoning always.

So, we rise, on ultra-light rays, white birds with transforming wings,

High above the mountain, far beyond Earth’s atmosphere, until we are suspended, rooted to Heaven.

Then we see, then we feel, then we know, that the whole of life is from a vow to save love, to rectify and redeem the moment

It was lost.

To return, be reunited,

To never relinquish the quest, seeking always the Beloved, who is still in the only hidden place.

Inside, when everything else is revealed, when all that there is can be reached.

In the mind, out of the mind.

Spark of soul untarnished by dark matter.

Ready to be raised upon the pinnacle, always, ever longing for reunion.

Standing on the outskirt of the forest, Hermes whispered a message to his light‐headed, wine‐brining friend: “Zeus’s twice‐born son, your time shall surely come. You bear the living vine; on you the sun shall shine”.

The wolf by Apollo’s side pricked up its ears and whined. “And what of me, Father, bringer of the cosmic light, voice of all reason and destroyer of dark night?”

Zeus raised an eyebrow. “How soon, I wonder, my great golden child, ’til you think yourself greater, even, than I?”

It was then that his deer‐daughter put a restraining hand on her brother’s shoulder and entreated him in an urgent voice. “Bait him not, beloved brother; the chariot of the sun shall be struck down by lightening and the silver moon shall die of grief! Then you would see that our licentious youth shall sober in a second and sit upon thy gilded chariot!”

“Ay, sister of the moon, with his hairy hand upon my priceless goblet, while his sluts strum tuneless ditties upon my incomparable turtleshell lyre!”

Dionysus raised his cup to them in a toast: “You have my blessing brother, I think not to steer the chariot of the sun, nor to take your hallowed place in heaven…I’d rather have a bit of fun! You’ll have to watch the lyre, though, methinks the sound of music shall do much to make our mystery.”

Come, venerable, various pow’rs divine, with fav’ring aspect on your mystics shine

*

The owl of Zeus’s daughter Athena sat blinking inscrutably in the branches of a large white tree. Artemis, his deer, second‐born child beneath, blinked her virginal eyes and then ran like the wind towards the edge of the emerald forest.

She sped through the trees until she reached the pebble‐dashed shore of the finite see, where Poseidon threw waters from the churning, ink-black ocean out to land. A vast breaking wave upheld the glistening form of her darling, new‐born brother, Phoebus Apollo.

The top of his fin cut the air like a knife, carving out a circle of pure white light. Seven sacred colours framed his perfect, golden mind, as Artemis declared to him: “We two are one, combined!”

Her love for him supplanted all other desire. “Give me now my silver arrows”, she called out, “for I shall strike down dead any one who dares come between us!”

“Swim, enchanting sister, while my light is still cool, deep, into the salt-filled waters. A weapon such as this,” he held above him a golden bow, “may only be brought from the abyss”. His answering voice was like an echo of her dream before she dreamt it.

She cast off her linen robe and dipped one foot into the ocean, shielding her eyes from the blue‐lit morning star as it rose on the Eastern horizon. Every other face turned toward it as she made her way to the bottomless abyss, heedless of the dragon chained within.

I tarried not to tie my sandal shoe, but haste, post haste, through air my winged chariot flew

The Led display of the mobile phone revealed that it was almost one. She listened intently to the voice that came into her room via the radio. A drama was set to unfold, of that she could be sure; it seemed as if a kind of magic was taking place.

A gust of wind blew the window open with a bang and she jumped violently, shaken from her reverie by the sudden noise and rush of cool air. As he silently slipped inside she searched in vain the indigo space he left behind him. A magnificent aura had filled the room, sparkling like a billion shimmering flecks of silvery gold dust.

He watched while she turned her head north and south, seeking what – or whomsoever – had disturbed the rose-scented ether.

One golden glance of what should be.

She knew she was no longer alone, for a profound change had occurred in the atmosphere. Lush, electronic sounds swelled like waves and swept through her body and soul, as a deep history of time unfolded in his fathomless mind.

She was wearing gold-coloured sandals – shoes that were a gift from her father – and a midnight blue dress. Around her wrist was a bracelet full of charms and with his bright, ancient eyes, he saw that the necklace at her throat was made from the stuff of magic; a gift from her mystery-loving mother.

He had challenged the doors of time to reach her and the wait had seemed an eternity. 2,611 years had passed since she had been this close to him. On that occasion the moon had been perfectly halved by the shadow of the Earth. Jupiter, then, was at the same point in its orbit as it would be in precisely three and a half hours, that self-same night.

Shy she is as daisies in the meadow,

Walking with a step that lights the ether,

Paler than the moon with veils of shadow,

Moving on the water stretched beneath her.

 

Sweet she is as lilies dripping nectar,

Dancing with the sunbeams on the ocean,

Golden is the sphere and it surrounds her,

Silver stars a-light her every motion.

 

Green the gown that covers her in beauty,

Violet is the robe she wears at midnight,

Rosy-hued the colour of her secret,

Blue as rain the sky within her eyesight.

 

Silent is the soul that came down gently,

Carried in the arms of love so tender,

Wedded to the Prince of Peace intently,

Gazing at the one so He defends her.

 

Mercy springs and splendour mark their presence –

Two as one they stand as all united –

Perfect is the love, their only essence,

Faerie queen and son of man be-knighted.

 

Crystal stones bejem the kingdom’s pathways -

Topaz, onyx, jasper, sapphire, beryl –

Plus a thousand others at their passage –

Amethyst, carnelian and emerald.

 

In her breast a bird of light is flying,

Spreading open wings of joy now boundless,

Whiter than the swan with grace undying,

Every step she takes the ground is thrice-blessed.

 

Lady from the high-walled faerie palace,

She who gathers sea shells on the sea shore,

She who saved the spark to give her master,

Now does reap the promise of the rainbow.

For brass I will bring gold, and for iron I will bring silver, and for wood brass, and for stones iron: I will also make thy officers peace, and thine exactors righteousness.

Violence shall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise.

The sun shall be no more thy light by day; neither for brightness shall the moon give light unto thee: but the Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory.

Thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon withdraw itself: for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.

Isaiah 60, 17-20

 

Air, Ancient, Apollo
Beauty, Cosmic, Dawn
Divine, Earth, Fire
God, Gold, Heart
Heaven, History, Human
Joy, King, Knowledge
Life, Light, Love
Magic, Meditations, Mind
Moon, Mystery, Nature
Orion, Power, Reason
Secret, Silver, Soul
Spirit, Star, Sun
Time, Truth, Vision
Water, Wisdom, World
Alchemical Weddings

 

Vision augments experience; inspiration augments knowledge just as it does understanding; and intuition is the metamorphosis and growth no longer of what one experiences and understands, but rather of what one is. Through intuition one becomes another, through inspiration one apprehends new ways of thinking, feeling and acting, and through vision one’s domain of experience is enlarged – one has a revelation of new facts in accessible to the senses and to intellectual invention.

In practice it is not so that vision, inspiration and intuition are successive stages following the order – vision, inspiration, intuition. For there are those on the spiritual path who have only the experience of intuition, and still others who are only inspired, without ever having visions. But whatever the kind of mode of spiritual experience may be, at the final count it is always a matter of becoming, ie, intuition.

Thus one can say that in principle vision and inspiration are only means for arriving at intuition. Now, intuition takes place in the blood, inspiration  in tears and vision in sweat. For an authentic vision always entails an increase of effort in order to bear it, in order to remain upright in the face of it. Vision has a weight, sometimes overwhelming, which demands a great effort on the part of the soul in order not to give way under the weight of that vision.

Authentic inspiration always entails an inner upheaval. It pierces the soul like an arrow in wounding it and in making it experience that profound emotion which is a synthesis of sorrow and joy. The symbol of the Rose Cross – a cross from the center of which a rose blossoms out – renders the essence of the experience of inspiration in the best way I know. The Rose Cross expresses the mystery of tears, ie, that of inspiration, with force and clarity. It portrays the joy of sorrow and the sorrow of joy, which together comprise inspiration.

With respect to intuition, it is no longer a matter either of the weight of riches or of the romance of the engagement of the Rose and the Cross, but rather of consummating the marriage of life and death. What lives, thereby dies; and what dies, thereby is reborn. Thereby blood is mingled with the Blood and is transformed alchemically from the ‘fluid of separation’ into the ‘fluid of union’.

There are three ways of ‘seeing’ the Cross: the Crucifix, the Rose Cross, and the Gilded Cross bearing a rose of silver. The Crucifix is the greatest treasure of vision. It is the vision of divine and human love. The black Cross with a rose blossoming from it is the treasure of inspiration. This is divine and human love speaking in the soul. The Gilded Cross bearing a rose of silver is the treasure of intuition. This is love transforming the soul.

Meditations on the Tarot, Letter XIV, Temperance

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