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

08 May 2010

the weather builds a sacred space of wind and rain i send up smoke and laughter.  
seed to tree thirty something circles round the sun serpent and egg serpent and egg rune door moon door to rites of passage through seasons and sunsets, wings and eclispses i learn to take my fingers out of my eyes.
Authentic Being is Love who embraces all in generosity Green Man, Pan the frolic rising the egg cracked hatching a song from every cell.  the balance and the seed the snake and the egg beyond the hedges of home to a ring of squill and a door in the wood that opens. 

Edinburgh saturday plates breaking pressaging change.  gold coins and acorns a white horse for riding.
wind in the chimney and paul horn in the taj mahal.  yes to the spirit of the earth that holds fast and affords all possibility, strength and form giver of Blood wisdom yes to the spirit of the breath, God a vibrating column of air, messages that come on wings of wind giver of Space wisdom.  yes to the spirit of the fire alembic eye of the sun giver of Light wisdom.  yes to the spirit of the water, wombfluid, rainbride, depths and tides we rise from.  altogether pillars of the temple i am made from.   cupola of all and elsewhere above my head but steady stars to guide the traveler.  there is magick, and plenty and extraordinary birds in their best feathers the color of yolks, and new songs to the sky and i stop at the Artemis Tree to attend to my gratitude and adoration.

cloven hoof of tiger eye over the wire tides turning densely worded Heart Sutra and linen dipped in creekwater pegged up to dry in the wind that brings down the winter branches the breath of Light that drives the shoot shakes flower to fruit to feed us through the winter.  the significant and complicated language of living i am only now beginning to learn.  but i dont think its ever too late for the living i have done has helped me arrive at this small understanding.  entirely possible i havent grown up.  maybe growing up takes a much longer time than we think.  
Buddha says Now.
Now is the Most Important Thing The Only Thing That Is. 

tiger eye and bloodstone, lyrics like pistol reports and i find the little wooden horse looking for something i forgot entirely.   little wooden horse and colleys mushroom and a thumbpot made by a faerie lord.  
"brighton girls are like the moon" plays the song from new morning the screenplay of the day and id like to be out in the weather getting my atoms rearranged.  
i put out the hummingbird feeders yesterday having grasped the fundamental concept of hydraulics that keeps the syrup from pouring onto my shoes.  snow seems entirely possible so i  bring the seedlings in.  
harmonium, tabla, Steve Earle "happy ever after til the day you die be careful what you ask for you dont know til you try."  im thinking about people and the connections we make, the threads we weave, the elementary trajectory of our lives seen in the rearview spooling away like cassette tape or some comets flaming tail.  

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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."

"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)