Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances.”

03 April 2008


J.K. Commandment #11: Visionary tics shivering in the chest.
"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known." Berber carpeting and scissors catching up with whats what at my ease the ivy tendril and the wall rain rain good rain we have a choice rain brings flowers down the road awhile i see the sap is running this is my friend we share theres an understanding there thats beyond precious to me this understanding ive prayed for my entire everything. words fail me. here its written on the wall it may be clearer than i could say gypsy music arrives from nowhere and my blood dances i brought roses for you and you and you and theres some for someone i havent met and there might be one left for me. its been forever since music came through my skin and filled my head and i crashed into intimate strangers and broke the bones of my captivity sweat out the burden of flesh spun a sparkling cone of light and sent it out to heal the human family i am dancing i cannot hurt you i am dancing i cannot make war i am dancing i cannot lie steal i can only share this beautiful light the ocean flying from my fingertips put your hand here and you can hear the blessed heart of creation singing. for now im down here on the floor covered in clear ribbons of time asking you how it is for you to be alive.

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Blessed Be.

"And if the question were asked: What is more real, the mundane or the sublime? most would hesitate before they gave an answer. On the one side, details: say, the aftermath of a breakfast, dirty chipped plates in the sink, their rims encrusted with egg yolk. Against this, the unnameable: small aching heart with boasts, what can you know? Outside the cage of everything we ever heard or saw, beyond, outside, above, there lies the real, hiding as long as we shall live, there stretch and trail the millions of names of God burning across the eons. When all through this our end will come before we even know the names of us.

For many the egg yolk prevails." -L.M.

"Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well."
-V.V.G.

"The perfection of the Absolute where all Becoming stops and pure Being, immutable, timeless, unchanging, hangs forever like a ripe peach upon the bough." -E.A.

"...and the whole incident was incredibly frazzling and angst-rod and filled almost a whole mead notebook and is here recounted in only its barest psycho-skeletal outline." -D.F.W.

"At the top of the mountain, we are all snow leopards." -H.S.T.

"Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." -D.T.
"Cometh a voice: My children, hear; From the crowded street and the close-packed mart I call you back with my message clear, back to my lap and my loving heart. Long have ye left me, journeying on by range and river and grassy plain, to the teeming towns where the rest have gone - come back, come back to my arms again. So shall ye lose the foolish needs that gnaw your souls; and my touch shall serve to heal the fretted nerve. Treading the turf that ye once loved well, instead of the stones of the city's street, ye shall hear nor din nor drunken yell, but the wind that croons in the ripening wheat. I that am old have seen long since ruin of palaces made with hands for the soldier-king and the priest and prince whose cities crumble in desert sands. But still the furrow in many a clime yields softly under the ploughman's feet; still there is seeding and harvest time, and the wind still croons in the ripening wheat. The works of man are but little worth; for a time they stand, for a space endure; but turn once more to your mother - Earth, my gifts are gracious, my works are sure. Instead of the strife and pain I give you peace, with its blessing sweet. Come back, come back to my arms again, for the wind still croons in the ripening wheat."
-John Sandes, The Earth-Mother (excerpt, 1918)