There can be only one

He looked over his shoulder at the gigantic sphere, which turned through the fragile cosmos with an intricately complex, haunting melody. The light danced like fireflies in his eyes as the diamond of her soul was melted into quicksilver.

One shaft of light that showed the way

She gave up a prayer with feeling, hands raised up in her outspread hair.

This flame that burns inside of me is here in secret harmonies

She had had dreams and he could see every colour of every scene.

One dream, one soul, one prize, one goal

With a silent whisper he reminded her of the truth:

No mortal man can win this day.

He drew the flickering image into the endless space between them and exhaled into her parted lips.

There can be only one….

*

Bring glorious, ardent, lovely, fam’d desire, and warm my bosom with your sacred fire

Promise of the Rainbow

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.

Dwellings of the Philosophers

“I do not remember if I spoke to him first”, says the great Initiate, “or if he was the one who questioned me; but I have a very fresh memory, as if I were still hearing hem, of how he talked to me for three long hours in a language which I know I had never heard and which bears no relationship with any language of this world, but which I understand more quickly and more intelligibly than that of my wet nurse.

He explained to me, when I inquired about such a marvelous thing, that in sciences there was a truth, beyond which we always found ourselves away from simplicity, and that the more an idiom strayed from this truth the more it went below our conception and became more difficult to understand.

Similarly”, he continued, “in music this truth is never encountered without our soul, immediately elevated, blindly going for it. We don’t see it but we sense that Nature sees it; without being able to understand how it absorbs us, it cannot but delight us, although we cannot know where it is.

And it is the same thing with languages. Whoever encounters this truth of letters, of words, and of continuity can never, while expressing himself, fall below conception: his speech is always equal to his thoughts; and because you do not have knowledge of this perfect language, you do not know what to say, not knowing the order or the words which could express what you imagine”.

I told him that the first man of our world indubitably used this language, since each name that he imposed on each thing declared its essence. He interrupted me and continued: “This language is not simply necessary to express everything that the mind conceives, but without it we cannot be understood by all. Since this idiom is the instinct or the voice of
Nature, it must be understandable by everything that lives in the midst of Nature.

This is why, if you knew it, you could communicate and disclose all your thoughts to animals, and animals to you all of theirs, because it is the very language of Nature by which
she makes herself understood by all animals. Therefore be no longer surprised by the ease with which you understand the meaning of a language which your ears have never heard.

When I speak, your soul encounters, with each one of my words, the Truth that is gropingly looking for; and although its reason does not understand it, it has within it a nature which cannot but understand it”.

However, this secret, universal, indefinite language, in spite of the importance and the truth of its expression, is in reality of Greek origin and genius, as our author teaches us in
his History of the Birds. He has some very old oak trees speak— an allusion to the language which the Druids used in this manner:

“Think of the oak trees which we feel you are looking at: it is we who are speaking to you, and if you are astonished that we speak the language used in the world whence you come, know that our first fathers are natives of it. They lived in Epire, in the forest of Dodona, where their natural goodness moved them to give oracles to the afflicted people who consulted them. For this purpose, they had learned the Greek language, the most universal then in existence, so as to be understood”

Fulcanelli, Dwellings of the Philosophers

Love

flowers of summer
flowers of summer

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

Burne-Jones

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Hidden Stargates

Marked these words, the quill of Hermes:
Raise the green-lipped youth Adonis.
Listen well, as if to Eros,
See the truth within his promise.

Through the self, a solar system
Metes out time. The planets singing,
Seal in lines the great revision.
“Light!” The cosmic bells are ringing.

Truth reflects within the like minds,
As are scanned the skies sky for giants’
Astronomic temples; sun-signs
Trace the thread of ancient science.

There in orbit turn the star-lings,
Planets binding, suns inclining,
In such ways that whole dimensions
Fold inside the vaults of Heaven.

Angels watch the hidden stargates –
One from North, a second South-side –
East and West. The seal is six-faced.
Secret form – a cube, shaped inside.

The Quintessence

“Hope!” the birds sing as you enter
Into space. The sidereal turning
Back reveals undying memories,
Log-book of a life-times’ journeys.

Starlight is the love inflection –
Four plus one, the whole quintessence –
Flame, Air, Water, Earth, Reflection,
Quantum leaps in five directions.

Twelve the signs that mark the time-piece,
Zodiacal months and sections.
Fiery Water, Earth-Air, star suite.
‘Now behold the Ram,’ says Hermes.

Vernal sun – the fiery Aries’
Golden fleece – lights Pallas, mighty,
Guardian over Argive heroes;
Asteroid of winged Niké.

This the key to hidden gateways –
Look beyond to see the secret –
Clio fixed for all the greats’ days.
Thalia the Muse, the Grace says:

Prophet of the Age

‘Thus I come to vain Apollo –
He who thinks himself the greatest –
Source of all my kindred’s troubles:
Every evening bow to Isis.

‘‘From the rest you’re put asunder,
‘Cept for Hermes – he may wander
Close – and yet the comely Venus,
She will burn each night for heathens.

‘‘Mars will threaten peace with war cries –
Or just gasp with thirst – in near skies,
Holding over Earth forever
Fears of war and stormy weather.

‘‘Now, fair God, more bitter medicine:
Worshipped, though – it’s true – you shall be,
None shall gaze upon thyself nor
See inside your mind. Yet, moon’s beams,

‘They’ll take shape within the psyche.
Shield of Earth, your sister’s mirror
Hypnotises every Earthling,
So the secret love I’ll give her.

‘‘Henceforth, god, be void of reason –
Let your self be burning passion –
Tempered, just, in winter seasons.
All you long for turns to ashes.

‘‘Filled with fire that’s all-consuming
You shall draw the Earth unto thee,
Just because your will is stronger
Than your mind, which is no longer.’

‘So the great unchained Osiris
Sends Apollo out of Nothing,
Up to where the Ra’s residing.
Rolling wheel of fate deciding.

‘Sevens swans with sorrow singing,
Break Apollo’s heart, like Daphne.
Eros laughs, “your love is kindling
Hope; at least you’ll warm the Earthlings!”

Round galactic spheres, revolving,
Fragments of the mind dissolving
Cosmic will is near resolving;
Prophet of the age evolving.

Secret Signs for Soul’s Revival

‘Hermes watches, like a hermit
Shrouded by the cap of Hades,
Lest should be revoked his permit.
‘Time to heal’, he vows; she heard this.

‘‘Lord and Brother, how I love thee!’
Smiles Queen Isis, burning brightly,
‘You have framed the night with pagans,
Set them in our skies, quite nicely.

‘You have made such fitting fates for
These, the ones who stole our thunder,
Yet I heard the one forgotten
Part, the silver-quickening wonder.”

‘Lord of charm, the cunning Hermes
‘Touched your pride and so discreetly:
Whilst the sun of life is fettered
All his children grow up freely!

‘‘Thus, Apollo’s light shall profit
Those who measure seasons, cycles.
I, alone, shall not reposit
Secret signs for souls’ revival’.

Endless Story Timeless

‘When his memory serves him rightly,
Thoth the ancient speaks: “Osiris!
Fare thee well? The bits and pieces
Are as one; she loves thee, Isis.

How might I now be of service?”
Asks the one with dispensation.
“I could write it as I heard it,
So to speak, unite the nations?”

‘Lord Osiris, King of Egypt,
Smiles at this and kisses Isis.
‘See, my love, he’ll keep the remit,
Make our endless story timeless!’

‘‘Thoth, now, phrase the hidden secrets –
Thoth the priest, the Master builder –
Write the way.’ The sun-mind keeper,
Brings to light what Earth held deeper.

‘‘One as three, my eye is opened;
One in mind. The light of living
Looks more lovely now, than ever.
Solomon is wise and giving.

‘‘As we break the day with sun shine,
Let the past be past, Apollo.
Warm the seed of this: The grapevine;
Let the bread of life be swallowed.

Future from the past; reflection

 

 

‘‘Forwards backwards, time is taking

Cosmic steps through every section.

Herein find the secret waiting:

Future from the past; reflection.’

 

‘Then Osiris, fully risen,

Calls to life, renews gestation,

Metes out Time with fate’s precision,

Orders: ‘Scribe, divine creation.’’

 

So is seen the mythic cycle,

Turning ever on its axis.

Each was placed upon its system,

Fixed was each by one, another.

 

One drew out another’s mystery,

So they grew to greater wisdom.

Set were they on points of psyche’s

Evolution, flowering moments.

 

When to heart and soul one listened,

Heard and wrought it for one’s vision,

Out of that which never dies;

Springs, eternal, the story of the sky.

 

Charlotte Cowell, The Myth