Death Shroud

Behold what we’ve seen!

In the night Faerie Queen

Showed us her tresses and danced through our dreams.

Told not a soul the Chevalier bold,

As he grew older than all the King’s soldiers.

Joy rose on fire from the funeral pyre,

Free as a bird that escaped the dark world.

White water rivers made stirring souls quiver;

Trees in the mistral of love’s mourning minstrel.

Silent with learning did Knights made their journey

To lands where the treasure was far beyond measure.

Light was the angel with eyes fixed on sunrise.

Cloak made of rain-clouds that raised up the death-shroud.

Beautiful, lethal, the Nephilim’s sequel

Returned through the sight that could penetrate night.

The Year-ling

January’s cold made us ten aeons old

And February slipped into ice ages thick.

In March the new dawn rendered heartache unknown.

The eighteenth of April made sleepy eyes wakeful.

The eighteenth of may was when we were engaged.

By midsummer June we reflected the moon.

Bright in the sky was the star of July.

With August reborn was the white unicorn.

Flaming September brought days we’d remember

The cup did run over in deep love October.

Shambala was entered one night in November.

Last came the solstice of holy December.

Book of Tokens

Absorb thyself in this Great Sea of the Waters of Life
Dive deep in it until thou has lost thyself.
And having lost thyself,
Then shalt thou find thyself again,
And shalt be one with me,
Thy Lord and King.
Thus shalt thou learn the secret
Of the restoration of the King unto his throne.

And in this path of Stability
Shall my knowledge of the Roots of Being
Be united to the glorious Splendor
Of the perfect Knowledge
Which is established in the mirror
Of the clear waters of HOD.
For when the surface of those waters
Is disturbed by no slightest ripple of thought
Then shall the glory of my Self,
Which is thy true Self,
Be mirrored unto thee.

From the Book of Tokens

The Portal

As the Shaman tapped the deer-skin
Drum, he spoke aloud his thinking,
“What became of those two fellows,
Those who still remain in heaven?”

From the deep green emerald forest,
Stepping softly came a figure,
Made of light, a horseback rider,
In one hand he bore an object.

“One returns,” spoke out the Shaman,
“He could tell a pretty story,
Judging by the hand that’s holding
Stuff of legend, history, glory.”

Robed in silence, seven sages
Watched the horseman drawing nearer,
Saw the object, clear as crystal,
Then, exhaled their breath for ages.

“This makes eight but who shall tell us,
Where the final one is waiting?”
Spoke the Shaman, at which moment,
Something stirred within the forest.

Light of limb and swathed in mystery,
Dazzling in the emerald darkness,
Stepping soft upon the carpet
Came the ninth and moved among them.

Sat she down beside the fire,
Peaceful as the moon at midnight
As the eight in spellbound wonder,
Took her as their inspiration.

Eyes that once were blind with wisdom
Opened then to something greater.
How it happened, none could fathom;
How the ninth became this lady.

So, there is the greatest mystery:
Free of time and made immortal,
Born to hold the key of history;
She, who dared step through the portal.

Sacred Heartbeat

“What’s the use?” spoke out the Shaman,
“Each set out to meet his maker,
Now on Earth are white-washed spirits,
Blown out minds, who seem as strangers.

“And, I see, the thrall of blissful
States is tempting. Two remain there,
Lying still in deep hypnosis,
Thinking not; they’re quite unconscious!”

Chanted, then, the single Shaman
Words, recalled his greatest magic:
Brought from yonder plane of dreaming
Sages seven from the heaven.

“Make a circle, watch the fire,
Round it form a chain together,
Listen – hear – the holy drum speaks;
Rhythm forms, the sacred heartbeat.”

Thus, they made a single circle
Round the pile of glowing embers,
Let the drums recall the rhythm
Of the heart that time remembered.

“We’re as one.” They spoke in chorus,
“Though the paths we followed differed,
There was but one destination,
Stand united generations.”

Golden Feathers

As their consciousness grew thinner,
So the eagle scanned the mountains,
‘Til it spied a pair of antlers,
Saw the stag to bear the spirit.

Folded wings became an arrow
Tipped with plumes of golden feathers.
Startled though the stag was, doubtless
Is the soul that leapt unto it.

By the silver moon of Mani
Did the stag with spirit wander
Cross the deep green emerald forest,
There to find the Shaman’s body.

By the campfire, dying embers
Glowed just like the sun does setting,
Wakened by a moth, the Shaman
Tapped his drum to reach the sages.

Piled he high upon the fire
Dried up leaves and tinder-branches,
Blew upon the peaceful faces
Of the sages smoke, while dancing.

Lifeless seemed the ones before him –
‘Saw the Shaman, none were breathing,
But were bathed in light of silver –
All around them stars were gleaming.

Heavenly Music

Deep within the endless ocean
Swam the dolphin, swift in motion,
With a haunting cry, the seeking
Spirit felt its wisdom speaking.

Hosts of angels sang a promise
‘Here’s eternal bliss in heaven’.
More than all they dared to dream of
Heard the sages deep within them.

Music of the highest order,
Tones of never-ending beauty,
Filled the dolphin’s soul completely
So it rose back into ether.

Now the circling bird, so patient,
Dived again to catch the spirit
As it reached for air, transpiring
At the dolphin’s exhalation.

All at once the ones in heaven
Heard an instrument of glory,
Sounding far beyond their memories
Rolling out the timeless story.

Not a thing would they remember
Of the secrets of the music
‘Cept that it was more than wisdom,
More than knowledge; all that truth is.

The Shaman

On the Earth the Shaman shifted
Shape and let his song be silence.
Thus, was set a leopard’s spirit,
Loose amongst the emerald forest.

Just beneath his leafy carpet
Slipped a serpent, shedding softly,
All its skin. This eerie presence
Passed them by, the nine in heaven.

Knew the souls of all the sages –
Those who heard within the silence
Purest notes of timeless music –
Golden was the light, the silence.

Soon the leopard reached the edges,
crossed the deep green emerald forest,
Looked up at the sky of sapphire
Saw the eagle, called in spirit.

So the bird did swoop upon it,
Took the soul within the leopard,
Lifted it beyond the forest,
Past the clouds, ascending skyward.

From the greatest height a creature
Of the world might reach, the eagle
Spied a movement on the carpet
Of the Earth and dived to reach it.

Truth Dimension

Then the pagans pressed to vino
Bowls of grapes and drank the contents,
Chewed the leaves which brought the dream world,
Through the skies their wakened souls sent.

Next up went the Persian preacher –
He who knew the truth was deeper
Than the other side of reason –
Flew he swift to find his teacher.

On their cloud the grail men bonded
In their wish to not be tempted,
Then, at last, was one persuaded;
As he left, the clouds were emptied.

With a palm pressed firmly downward
With his legs both crossed at centre,
Did the prince – a pauper – summon
Earth to witness; heaven entered.

Laughing with delight the Veda
Sang into the air a summons,
Brought a vehicle named Vimana,
Flew at once upon the sunbeams.

By the ray which crossed the cosmos,
Did the moon and he who loved it
Find in space the Truth Dimension,
Past the dipper, starry seven.

Seeing how the rest succeeded,
So the ninth himself was certain,
That he’d reach his destination
Up beyond the sky-drawn curtain.

The Challenge

Thus, the voices reached a clamour –
Each had made his case with vigour –
Each revealed his spirit’s armour,
Each declared his god(s) the bigger.

So the Shaman stepped amongst them:
“Let us settle this forever,
Lest in man is made a schism,
Then in woman, child and creature.”

On his drum he rolled a rhythm,
Challenged all to meet his maker,
Clear of conscience visit heaven
Then return, not less, nor greater.

As the beat rolled on, relentless,
Nine – the listeners – reach inside them,
Sought to find their soul-connection,
Straight unto the gate’s of Heaven.

First to fly, the Sufi mystic –
With his coat of many colours –
Made a spiral of his spirit,
Through his dance amazed the others.

Where he went was then a secret.
“Who’ll rise next?” the Shaman wondered.
So the Rabbi brought his deepest
Spark to life and upward wandered.