Atonement

"...And it is the people most capable of forgiveness that are the only ones made to atone."

Emi Mahmoud

Phoenix

"Hi ho, nobody home, love nor hope nor honour have I none, yet I will be merry..."

The song of the dispossessed is buried with them, piles of rotting flesh in nameless graves. Then the crows, eaters of flesh, take it back to the Mother who's Unfathomable, Unnamed, Sacred, Absent from this hellhole of a world.

"You know, Lilith has had as much bad press as Lucifer, if not more. It's the same with Kali and Hecate. Kali kills the parts of the self that not only don't serve a purpose anymore, but turn into fully-fledged demons if left unchecked. Hecate was the goddess of witchcraft, but also of justice, eloquence, a protectress of pregnant women and children and the one who in her mercy gathered the souls of the mad and the suicides from the crossroads."

And Lilith?

Luminous shadow of Creation

the left hand of God/dess

Black Moon to Her Black Sun

The Ancient One who walked in the gardens of Babylon

The Second Born and first to give birth

Exalted, revered, sacred

The ones scared of Her power 

called Her mother of abominations

the One who gave birth to Death

As if life itself isn't the first step towards

the embrace of Death...

And you?

I weave. Silently, incessantly, I weave. I write and pray and light candles and kiss my cats and eat and walk and talk and weave. In my sleep I sing the song of the dispossessed and wake up with my cheeks wet with tears. In my waking hours I see the heart of the tiniest phoenix in the flaming center of a flower and go back to bed with my cheeks wet with tears. Cause no-one else sees it, and when I tell them about it, they give me that half-smile we give to children and mentally challenged people. 

If you have money, you are eccentric. If you don't, you're just weird.

I can live with it. 

Dead Can Dance

"Song Of The Dispossessed"

The river is deep and the road is long

Daylight comes and I want to go home

Awoke this morning

To find my people's tongues were tied

And in my dreams

They were given books to poison their minds

The river is deep and the mountain high

How long before the other side?

We are their mortar

Their building bricks and their clay

Their gold teeth mirror

Both our joys and our pain

The river is deep and the ocean wide

Who will show us how to read the signs?

The earth is our mother

She taught us to embrace the light

Now the lord is master

She suffers an eternal night

You blocked up my ears

You plucked out my eyes

You cut out my tongue

You fed me with lies

Oh lord

Oh lord

Oh lord

Oh lord

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Virve

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

by Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1932

 

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Zen

Art by http://www.benheine.com/

We walk in circles under the same stars that travel in circles above our heads.

Millions of years and still they are at the same place

Millions of years and still I am at the same place.

Blind, useless, terrified, going around in circles, doing nothing and not once realising that

We’re breathing stars ourselves, waiting to be re-united with those above.

Why so much fear?

Because I want to live and life is about pain and estrangement and confinement while it should be about joy and ecstasy and the open skies.

I miss my wings.

I miss your gentle hand on my shoulder.

I miss your kind breath waking me up.

I miss your wings around mine.

I miss you so much.

You’ve watched me die a million times and not once could you do something to stop it.

One above, one below, one in the heavens and one in flesh, walking the empty halls, walking the empty streets, and it’s all gone and gone and gone. Forever gone.

I want to die.

I want to live.

I want to be released.

I miss you.

Who dares call love unholy, when you meet people who see the other person as the living Christ or the Goddess in flesh?

All flesh is sacred

All flesh demands

All is temporary, to pass away, all is forever, all is dust, all is eternity. All is one.

And here I am.

Blind, scared, walking around in circles and never going anywhere.

No-one wants to see. No-one wants to understand. No-one wants to change.

All men must change. All men must die. All men must love.

Circles, circles, circles, circles with no beginning or end, no meaning or purpose, nothing at all.

I wish I could say that this is Zen.

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