The Song of the Universe
William R. Mistele
Copyright © March 10, 2000
by William R. Mistele
All rights reserved.  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the author. 
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Mailing address: 
William Mistele 
P.O. Box 26302 
Honolulu, HI 96825























You are my Soul

To Jachil

Song for the Earth

A Path of Light

I Shall Never Taste

The Beloved

The Beloved: A Reply

Elegy for Kathy

Elegy for Lahe

The Dark Moon  I

The Dark Moon II

Atlantean Memories

Her Eyes

In Your Hands

In Pablo Neruda’s Footsteps

Too Much to Ask

One Day

Hold Me One Last Time

You are within my Soul

Sings from her Heart

I am the Wolverine

The Werewolf, For Shea

My Opposite

For Debra

The Bee

I Speak With Trees

St. Patrick and the Elves

To My Beloved

Song of the Sea

The Undine

An Undine’s Prayer

The Feeling of a Woman

Women and the Sea

Psalm for the Sea

Song of Fire

My Lover


The Pools of Makapu’u

The Goddess Dawn

The Goddess of the Cauldron

The Song of Psyche



A Celtic Prayer

A Request

My Life Koan

The Cosmic Letter UE

The Cosmic Letter U

Song of Baleem

Jacob’s Angel

The Goddess of the Earth

The Goddess of Compassion

A Psalm of Praise (To St. Columba)

Vehuiah--What is Like Unto God?

For Ebvep

My Consort--To Hagiel

Your Soul



An Essay--How to Write a Poem





















All of the poems in this book were written under the inspiration of a Muse which the earthzone spirit Zagriona found for me.  I had not written poetry in many years, but after a few meditations with Zagriona I felt compelled to write poems every day.  I would wake from sleep and have to write.  I would write with tears falling from my eyes.  I would write speaking of feelings I have never felt in this life.

     This Muse is somewhat unusual.  Let me comment on this.   In life, most of us have difficulties of some kind with relationships.  We all know what it is to feel close to another person.  Some have felt at times that they are one with the other person.  Love involves joining and union.

     Nonetheless, even the greatest lovers have to solve problems on a conscious level.  We have different ways of thinking, different experiences, different expectations, hopes, dreams, and desires.  In a real relationship, solving problems and overcoming conflicts requires conscious activity.  You have to talk and communicate with each other.  You have to explain your differences, negotiate, and form agreements.

    But the conscious mind also has severe limitations.  We have personal boundaries and these boundaries protect us from excessive pain, vulnerability, and from being helpless.  A bardic magician or a poet skilled in magick, however, can temporarily suspend or overcome these limitations and boundaries.  We expect this from art and magick--it should be able to tell us what it is to cross over into the unknown and return.  It should be able to tell us what it is to be so consumed by love that nothing of the self remains.

    In one version of the story, Merlin taught King Arthur as a child to transfer his mind into every animal and this so he could understand other’s motives and so rule effectively as a king.  In basic magick training, you learn to project your mind into every aspect of nature, into other human beings, and every kind of spirit.  You do this so you can serve, so the inspiration of Divine Providence overflows from your heart.

     For my Muse, there seems to be this rule:  you are free to join with and become one with any being, spirit, or thing in the universe in order to fulfill the purposes of love.  In this joining, there is no separation.  There is only oneness.  This means that at least in terms of feelings, intuition, energy, and perspective, two individuals or spirits temporarily can so unite that all their memories, their abilities, their sensations, and modes of consciousness are completely available to each other.

     If you consider human lovers, even the best, there is this incredible jealously and selfishness which exists when they attain oneness with each other.  Because when they taste that oneness and bliss of union, they are also simultaneously in that moment extremely vulnerable.  This degree of intimacy, if violated, would subject them to great pain and also a loss of personal power--a feeling of betrayal, defeat, and helplessness.

    But this instinct of self-preservation is understandable.  Most individuals’ self-awareness derives from being a member of a society.  They do not identify with stars, black holes, the emptiness of space, the elements of nature, and light in every vibration both visible and invisible.  But my Muse does. For him, there is only oneness.  He is there for every being in the universe.  It matters not to what galaxy, planet, or race they belong.

     In a story I wrote about an ancient bard, this Muse speaks these words to the poet, “Was not the constellation of Aquarius placed within the sky to remind every being of friendship?  Does not Aquarius exist so that when one heart calls out to another, a kindred spirit may be found even amid the darkest wilderness?  And is there not a life form dwelling within the oceans of your world, a species of whale which like nomads travel one to the North Pole and another to the South Pole?  And if a whale losses its path, still, it is welcomed by the other band and journeys on to the other end of the world.  Because of the loneliness you have endured, your songs shall arise from the hearts of stars and my blood shall mix with your own for we are now brothers.”

      In the human world and in society, love is carefully defined and greatly restricted.  There are no such restrictions in the spiritual world.  Love is without limitation.  It encompasses the universe and everything within it.

     In a nutshell, my poems often derive from this perspective.  Sometimes if only for a moment or instant, I am one with another person, spirit, or aspect of nature.  All that it is and all that I am are perfectly joined--all memories, thoughts, feelings, energies, abilities--in that moment all that we are flows freely from heart to heart.  This is a creative act and it naturally involves a joining of opposites.  Whether this offends the laws of morality or not, it fulfills the purposes of love by reminding us that nothing is separate and ultimately we are all one.

     I introduce many of the poems with explanations of how I wrote them, their source of inspiration, or the stories where I have placed them.  Art serves a very important purpose for a magician.  When you have sources of inspiration which are not recognized by traditional religions, it is especially important to find a way to share your experience.  This is so you can avoid the acute isolation which arises from having profound and overwhelming experiences which few may understand. And in sharing you find others who desire to share in return.  You create your own community and build a new place where the sacred is honored.  Music, drawing, painting, sculpture, drama, stories, poetry, etc. are means through which this can be accomplished.

    Nineteen of the fifty-nine poems in this book were written while meditating with various elemental beings or higher spirits.  But for me, there is often little difference between interacting with human beings and interacting with spirits.  I give a practical example of this in the essay at the end of this book called, How to Write a Poem.  The poem in this essay was written while listening to a song sung by Karen Matheson.  Writing a poem while meditating with a spirit can be done in exactly the same way.





I awoke from a nap one year on Beltane and wrote the following poem.  I sometimes like to place my poems within a mythical landscape in order to give them a home when it is clear to me that they do not belong to this world.  It took me years, but I gave this poem to the consort of He’adra in the story, The Fall of Atlantis.  He’adra was the most powerful  magician to ever appear within human history and his consort was his inspiration.  She speaks this poem to He’adra at the moment of her death--”when she awoke”--and as she begins a spiritual journey crossing many lifetimes until that day when she will find He’adra again.

 You Are My Soul
When she awoke she turned to me and said:
You are my soul.
My first breath in the light of dawn
And all my dreams at night
I dedicate to you, my Beloved.
When I shove off and depart for unknown shores
Your inspiration guides my craft
Flows with force through my sails.
You are the electricity in my heartbeat
The separate fibers of my being
Unite around my love for you,
The surge, the pulse, the wave
The circle of life within my body
Ride upon my desire to hold you within my heart.
My love for you is as deep as the sky
More vast than the winds
That caress the seas in ecstasy.
Softer in flight
Than the moon's light
My body yields to you
As I spiral and turn
Caught in the currents
Of your smile
As I drift into a sea
Of pure bliss
When I enfold you in my arms.
Desert sands of Haleakala
Russet, crimson, citrine
Parched, dry, burning
Yearn with volcanic craving
Solidified rock
Once flowed molten, liquid
Lit with tongues of flame,
Yet Haleakala is but a small reflection
A small reminder
Of the fire with which
I burn for your touch.
Reflected in your eyes
I become a purity
Acid can not etch
Time can not drown
Space can not hide.
I am luminous light
The transparency
Shining in all colors
The dreams that yield their visions to me
Of birth, of galaxies colliding,
Of seas turning into wine
These are your gifts to me
When I hold you close to me at night.
Back to Index
*       *       *
This next poem also appears within the story, The Fall of Atlantis.  He’adra writes it for his consort at the moment he is chosen as high priest of Atlantis.  I wrote this poem while meditating with the earthzone spirit named Jachil who presides over the fourth degree of Cancer.  Like many earthzone spirits, he specializes in human and divine love. I did not notice anything special about this poem until a friend emailed me and said she had framed it and placed it on her wall.
To Jachil
When you are in my arms
My wounds are healed
My dreams fulfilled
Our lips touch
Moonlight illuminates your naked skin
I no longer know who I am
The sun glides through the sky
Deer graze in the meadow
I am mesmerized.
The present moment fades
The moon sets her sails to the solar wind
My hands glide upon your skin
The sun drowns as we kiss
In the darkness of night to be reborn at dawn
Our hips join
As the stream winds through the crevice of the valleys
Mirth and laughter splashing down
As the sea enfolds the mountains in her depths
The whale's song echoing through the hills
Geese fly across the moon
The leaves of birch trees shiver
A solitary bird sings
Cats' paws ripple upon the lake
The gusts of wind pulsate
Your breasts pressed against my chest
Your love shapes my life
As the hands of the sculptor
Mold the clay,
Closing her eyes
The harpist plays
The notes of the song within her heart.
Back to Index
*       *       *
I think of the Earth and every planet where there is life as a Goddess, as the consort of God, the Creator of the universe.  No religion or world teacher may appear on this planet without Her permission.  I sometimes meet Her in my dreams or when I am meditating.   She holds in Her heart the visions of what we are a race may attain.
Song for the Earth
May peace be upon the Earth
May Her beauty
Be within me and radiate from me
May I shine with Her light
May She shine from my eyes
May I speak from out of Her silence
May She resonate from within my voice
May I merge with Her lands
May She flow without ceasing through my body and my hands
May I never be separate from Her:
From Her forests and Her mountains,
From Her lakes, Her rivers, Her seas,
From Her silence and Her mysteries.
May every breath take me deeper within Her wisdom
And may I always share in joyful Celebration
With all those who are close to Her.
Back to Index
 *       *       *

This poem also belongs to the story, The Fall of Atlantis, and was written by He’adra to his consort.  As a writer of mythology, I imagine fantastic characters who do not belong to our world.  But this poem was inspired by a real individual whose power and fate were more fascinating and complex than any character I had imagined in my stories.

 A Path of Light
Dream images flowing between our minds
Our hearts searching for a higher love, a path of pure light
But one holding the needs and passions of our bodies within it
I feel so naked and lonely
Wrap me about with your love
With your sensual beauty
That I can touch with my hands
As I search for you amid
The hills, ravines, and valleys of your skin
One I can taste with my lips
As I float in lakes and rest in meadows
Hidden within sacred mountain domains
As my mouth burns with ancient hungers
And is soothed by your softness
As you allow yourself to burn
As my lips join with your breasts
One I can smell as I lose myself in your hair
Your arms, your thighs
The aroma of liquor
Flowers of delight within the oasis
Within the gardens where you are the goddess
One I can enter
A moist wetness I can slide down into
And forget my sorrow,
One so caressing, so gentle, so tender
You are willing to bind together the flames
Rising, exploding, and imploding within our desire
The Northern Lights, the stars and moonlight,
Dawn and twilight,
Green leaves, coral sunsets, the darkest nights,
A sea with a thousand rainbow colors dancing upon it
That all those journeys I took where I lost my way
Will now dissolve
They will be afraid of this love and flee
They will depart from me forever
As I touch your body and your skin
As I touch your soul and the light within
As our hearts reach out and shelter each other's.
Back to Index
 *       *       *
Composed to the song, La Rosa Enforece in the album, Mystica Rosa by Theresa Schroeder-Sheker.  This poem is from the story, The Bard, and was written by the warrior priest named Hirah.  He composed it while observing the most sacred ritual in his world performed once every ten years.  In the ritual, a young woman embodies the Goddess of the Earth during her dance.
I Shall Never Taste
I saw a naked woman dancing a slow, hypnotic dance
In a kingdom of my imagination so far away
It is not found in any myth or religion.
Your hips rising upon the air
As a breath on a path of love
Flies on wings to the heart of God.
Your thighs circling, molded
As a sea of sand dunes sculptured by the wind
An intimate caress
My palm will never find
Flowing upon your skin.
Your hips embraced
By shadow and light
Drinking as an elixir
The secret places of your delight
I shall never taste your lips
Nor the rhythm of the sea
Flowing around your thighs
Though I drown in a sea of bliss
Though ecstasy be my wine.
Space itself curls and turns
Lost on dark pathways
Gateways Eternity can only find
Within this moment
As your body rising now descends.
Your face moving mysteriously, eyes closed
Yet lit from deep within
Whispers names
Of ancient powers men have long forgotten.
Your hands, your fingers
Adrift on the winds my soul will never know
Sail as moonlight through white winters
Sail as twilight through my dark desires.
You hum,
Your passion glistening on your skin
And your scent
Shakes me as you pierce me deep within
My nerves scream like rivers running
From the tallest mountains
Evaporating and lost
Amid the desert's red dunes
Your body pulses
The music undulating
Enchanted by your skin
My heart beats
But I can not find the way,
My soul sleeps, a lion in his jungle
Still, I can find no rest
Even as I hear
The depths of your fullness
Releasing in your breath
Even as your voice
Winds its way through my soul
With more intimate caress
Than a river shaping a valley
Flowing upon its hills,
Its granite cliffs, its secret pools.
There is a candle
A wick naked and exposed
It burns furiously
Inhaling the air
Exhaling flames of desire
Darkness submits
To worship upon this altar
Your body
Your hips whose play
A wine
Fermented from starry ecstasies
My craft will never find
The flame is red
The flame is white
The flame burns me
With a delight I shall never taste.
Magenta clouds at dawn strung out
As islands across a sea
As a necklace around your neck
The Lord of the Winds
With his soft, moist kiss
Searches for your breasts
With a devouring hunger
The Lord of Light
Casts his rays
Into the sea of my sorrow
And borrows my eyes
To watch you dance
And weeps at twilight
For the sweetness
My lips will never taste.
Your hair drops upon your shoulders
Flies around your neck
The flowing, rippling, shimmering
Of water in a falls
Of smoke swirling in the wind
Are not as wet
Are not as dry
As your hair
Which burns, and freezes, and impales me
With promises of what might have been
Had we met
And you yielded your love to me
Its waves of bliss
Its familiarity
Your hair like rain
Falling upon my face.
I have entered a place
Where men are forbidden to go
A place of the soul
A wilderness unknown
Where breath can not flow
The heart can not seek
But it is clearly seen as you dance--
Your hips and thighs
Caressing the air
Your body sharing your innermost being
Unfolding as you enfold this moment
In circles, curls, and turns
Rising and descending
With a love I shall never know.
If I could dance with you
If I could walk upon the wind
If I could bargain with the stars
For breath to float my sails
If I could sail through every dream
As a sailor every sea
And you are the sound of the sea
When I am lost and lonely
Guiding me by the light of stars
The moon's silvery touch upon my skin
Igniting me within
As golden fires without limit
Stumble intoxicated through the sky
Having spied upon our love.
Come dance with me
I will be your consort, your guide, your soul, your love
As you sing
The winds of Eternity run their fingers through your hair--
Once we held hands by a well so long ago
Your smile rode above the waves
Like a bird migrating across countless lifetimes
To return to me again
And again, your soul, your song revives me
As I sink into your heart
And sleep and rest and dream
As you caress my skin.
Back to Index
 *       *       *
I received a wonderful compliment for writing the next two poems.  A lesbian said a man could not have written these poems.  She said they were written instead by one women to another woman who was her lover.

     Actually, the first poem was written the next morning at dawn the day after I had evoked the archangel Gabriel with a friend.  Gabriel has the most wondrous way of combining sensuality and divinity.  For this archangel, the two are one.  After all, is Gabriel not the archangel who oversees time, space, and the unfolding of history?  And did he not oversee the birth of Christ in human form?  And have these gifts of sensory perception and history not been granted to us but to discover the divinity within ourselves?
     I placed this poem within a story about Hirah and Parvan, two lovers who were the first on this planet to celebrate true love.  I thought the theme appropriate for a poem inspired by an archangel who offers visions of love and fulfillment.

The Beloved
She said to me:
"Say something sweet, kind, irresistible and seductive."
I replied:
If I were holding your hand
Right now between my hands
I feel I am reborn
And I feel my body
Slipping, sliding, sliding downward into your body--
A fire igniting
Like the light of dawn penetrating down among a forest's shadows,
Burning them away, turning them into pure light.
And as I caress your belly, your soft belly,
My palm drifting upon your skin,
I sail as a bird upon the wind
Searching across the oceans of your soul
For new islands to call my home.
And when I put my tongue into your navel--
I taste with my mouth one of the twelve fruits
Of the Tree of Life
(Which are for the healing of the nations),
And this fruit, as I turn my tongue to and fro,
Is a red pomegranate,
But its taste is of peach and its taste is of springtime--
With fresh waters flowing from mountain snow--
Icy winter dissolving as I lick your navel,
My mind turning and turning
Here at the center of your being:
       I flow into you and dream of new beginnings.
And as I place my hands on each side of your waist
Gently moving down across the curve of your hips--
I find myself in a dark forest at night
Following the sound of one bird singing
Singing to me of a dream
I let fly away from me, escaping from my life to be free,
But now it has returned, charmed by your beauty
And by this touch upon your hips in this night of quiet ecstasy.
As I kiss your hand, my tongue reaching down into your palm
I glide with the wings of a dove down into a valley--
I take within my hands a bunch of grapes from a vine,
A vineyard growing not far from the sea,
Not far from a place of mystery--
A place where the human heart has learned to be free.
I linger here lost in your arms, enfolded by your touch,
I am caught, unable to leave,
Even if you offered me the keys,
I could not unlock these gates which bind my soul
Nor forgo the tears which hold me here.
And as I kiss your upper arms, pausing, then dropping downward,
My touch a feather from a bird
Lit with golden light and a rainbow crown,
I feel your body rising beneath me,
I see your smile--
The sight of sunlight on the horizon at dawn,
Your two hands draw me to kiss your lips
And as we kiss, at that touch, like a cloudburst in a thunderstorm,
A wilderness of passions whirl about me in a dark gray world
Where all that now exists is the touch of your lips,
But in another kiss, the storm is gone,
The sky clears
And I walk among fields
Where waves break in seas of golden light
I whisper your name calling out to you,
I love you.
And the mountains in the distance
And the waters in the ocean depths
And the trees in the forest hear this whisper
And the mountains sigh
Wanting to stretch their bodies,
To shift their bulk and release their tension,
The oceans shiver and dream of turning into clouds
Walking upon the winds,
And the trees, those who heard my whispered words--
I love you--
Their leaves turn upward and they reach out
To embrace the sky.
I love you.
Back to Index
*       *       *
The Beloved: A Reply
My hand between yours
And at dawn or sunset
I am the high cirrus clouds
Saffron, russet, vermilion,
Cadmium red, carmine, rose, coral pink,
Sailing upon a turquoise sea.
Your hand on my belly
And I am suspended, floating,
Adrift on an ancient river of the soul
While the touch of your tongue
And the secret chamber at the center
Of a subterranean labyrinth
You set afire
Your touch that discovers
Memories I had hidden so well
I thought they were lost forever.
Your hands sliding down upon my hips:
A birch, a yew, an oak, a pine, a cedar,
Blindfolded I walk
Led by a guardian of the forest
To where I join with friends
Who celebrate this night
Both the sacred
And the dark passage ways
Leading us here.
Your kiss on my palm:
A lamb and its mother
Calling out to each other
Across a ravine,
My body moves involuntarily
A swirling
A python's thigh uncoiling
A sail unfurling in the rising wind
My mind sinking down
Muscles tightening, contracting,
My breath is where
The eagle hovers, gliding,
Ascending and descending.
Your kiss on my arm:
The roots, the stem, the petals,
The fragrance within
Each separate part of the flower
Feels the spark pass through it--
The ray the enchanter plays.
The dream in the eye of the sun
Echoes and probes the depths
Of my body and soul.
And at our kiss
A flashflood wild and dangerous
Devouring one by one
Calm moonlit pools
Where serenity said I belong
Yet I yield
To the raging torrent,
The surge, the uncharted power
Which enflames the stars
And seeks to bind your heart
And mine as one forever.
The Greater Love
Which informs the universe
In exquisite pain,
In blissful torment,
In terrible beauty,
Cords rending the soul
Sounds whose harmonics
Create both light and darkness
No mystical dervish this--
I whirl amid a creator's abyss
Impaled by the lightning bolt
In the night sky,
The womb in which
The Image of the world
Is reborn again and again,
Your touch
Is the sculptor's acid
Annihilating the last barriers
To my heart,
My body absorbs these fires through every pore
I seek you from the core of my being,
To wrap you about, to scream,
To rise higher.
Wind blown foam from the crests of these waves
Are tears in my eyes
As the storm wind's fury
Clasps me close to his breast
But at the center
Of the whirlwind
Silent and still
You and I remain the joining
Round which the stars dance.
Back to Index
*       *       *
Kathy died during the night several hours after being thrown from a horse. The next day she came to me in a “sending,” awakening me from a nap. She asked me to write this poem for her husband so he would have the words with which to say good-bye to her. I cry every time I read it.
   Elegy for Kathy
It has grown quiet now--
My tears are no longer falling
But my hands and arms continue to search for you
I have told them that the night is deep
I have told them that the stars were placed in the sky
To remind us of the Mysteries still hidden within our hearts
But their longing is beyond the power of words to reach
That is why my tears
Betray even poetry
And continue falling.
Male and female join
As night and day
Yet even a star so nobly poised
Amid the void, the void which holds its mysterious heart
Even a star celebrates its own light
In the face of the planets
Revolving around it
Yet the child's cry reminds us boyh
Of the womb from which we were born
And the destiny we have yet to attain
But the child's cry can be comforted
The child held close, the child loved
But who will comfort my heart
As I search the night
As tears continue searching my cheeks
Still looking for your smile
Still longing to hear your heartbeat?
No seashell recalls the songs of the sea
Or the waves rippling and falling upon the shore
As well as my ears remember your laughter
As well as my skin
Remembers your love.
If I could have but one more hour
To walk beside you
To share your company as you shove off
From the shores of the life we have shared together
But you would not grant me this request
Even if you could
You know I would not return
But would continue on beside you.
I tell my eyes
It is no use
They will never see you again
But they are more persuasive than I
They say they see you everywhere I look
In a thousand settings
In a thousand memories
Which still beg to comfort me, to hold me, to love me
As I had hoped to love you every day of my life.
I have grown quiet now
My tears are no longer falling
My blood flows through my body
My lungs continue to breathe
My arms and hands are calm
My eyes and ears are at peace
We no longer argue
Where and when we will find you
Or how we will live without you
You see, I have taken over their cause--
In my innermost heart
I speak on their behalf:
One heart in quiet consultation with another heart
Time, space, life, and death
They can no longer keep us apart
And I say what I would have said anyway
And what you know is true also:
I love you with all my heart
And I will love you forever and again I say
I love you so
I miss you so much
But I know you my dear
You would even find it funny
That I use a towel now
Instead of a handkerchief
To dry away my tears.
Back to Index
*       *       *
Lahe was one of the most inspiring individuals I have ever met. She knew and visited nearly every sacred site in Hawaii. The land flowed through her soul. Lahe’ena’e Gay was killed by guerilla militia 3/4/99 in Columbia.
  An Elegy--For Lahe
When I think of Lahe, I think of the Earth--
The mountains, the trees, the streams, the seas--
The waves, the winds, the currents, the tides
And the moon drifting through the skies.
When I visualize Lahe, I recall holding her hands
And I hear water falling, splashing, and laughing in
mountain pools
On the Big Island, on Maui, on Molokai, on Oahu, and
Ripples cross the surface to nudge my skin
And there are rainbows in the spray
As the wind swirls and lifts the fine mist
Up and over the cliffs.
Somehow she still seems near
As if I can catch the scent of her hair.
If only the Plumeria were in blossom,
If only the shama’s clear, crisp song
Could replace this fragrance which is forever gone.
Lahe, you are the tears within me I have never cried,
The beauty of the universe shines in your eyes,
You are the part of my soul which will never die.
The Earth weeps this night for a child so dear
As do I.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
When I was young, I was attracted to women who were born during the dark moon. This aspect is not always sweet, affectionate, or friendly, but it does possess mysterious wisdom.
 The Dark Moon I
Cold, cold Balsamic Moon
Your darkness is the opposite
Of your other face:
Silvery ecstasy
Your hands of light
Within the night
Are acceptance, delight, and serenity.
But this dark face
Guards the place
Where terror is bound
This empty shadow crossing over
Obliterating the stars
Eclipsing the sun
You are a black hole within the heart
An abyss to dissolve within
Ah, but I know better than to complain
You are also a Gate
For those who would be reborn as Spirit.
My dear, you are so easy to hate and despise
To desire you are acid
To pleasure you are pain
To joy you are sorrow and ruin.
But women understand you well enough
The mouth that nurses their breasts
Learns to resist, grows up, departs
The child's heart now given to another.
Barren and desolate are a mother's share
Of what was once the most tender affection.
But men feel your caress
Only in absolute despair
When all hope is abandoned
You are the grave when life is left behind
You are the earth where the seed dies
You are the circle of fire
Guarding Mysteries men shall never taste.
Still, though invisible,
You are constantly flirting with me
In the woman who is so easily offended
With a wave of her hand or a glance
She makes hatred appear out of thin air
I swear, she knows every bitter herb and root
Within a hundred miles
She hurls darts of jealousy
At any pleasure a man takes
At any work a man makes
Without her to guide him along.
But I see through your eyes this Wisdom--
Anything that rusts or corrodes
Has no place in your heart
You have walked by my side my whole life
Every time I have sought to be touched
By another in love
You have said:
First you must die
You must let go of the love you would hold
Only then will love find you
In a new and unknown form
You can not even imagine.
You say to me:
You must build a bridge
Between one heart and another
Sing into existence a path of Light
This is how you entered this world
And this is how you will attain your destiny.
You say to me:
And if you honor my soul
As you know
Of the stars I am very fond
I will give you all of their treasures
The mysteries of civilizations forgotten
And of ages unborn
I will give you clairvoyance
Time will undo her veils
And stand naked before your eyes
The Guardians of the world
Will visit you in your room at dawn
If you will drink my wine
Refined from the essence
Of sorrow, regret, sadness, and loss.
You see,
I am the opposite of oblivion
I am the hand held out in welcome
To those who would be free
Know this you who seek to look upon my form:
The path that leads from the darkest night
To the heart of the sun
Is born from my womb.
Though I admit
Only a wise man
Is ready to concede
My beauty-- though well-hidden--
Outshines all other women.
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*       *       *
 The Dark Moon II
I am the Balsamic Moon
And dark my night
And darker still my light
And bitter are my tears
And my fingers are icy cold
My touch is frost bite.
But I am still your lover
A lover like no other
For I can take you
Into a secret place of bliss
Where no other lover may go
Though I am not there
For your needs
Still when you look
You will behold my beauty--
See the stars
Shining in my hair
Come walk with me for a night
Take my hand and kiss my breasts
I alone am your perfect lover
A lover like no other
And though darkness be my embrace
I am the gateway--I alone.
Only those born of my womb
Only those born of my night
Enter the One Light.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
  Atlantean Memories
The love I seek
Does not belong to me
But to the man I will one day be.
I am still the seed
And though I have died a thousand times
Again I must let go
Of the man I know
To make the transition
But the pain is not everything
Wonder walks by my side
And Mystery is my guide
I have seen and embraced
Women who, in the distant future,
Will be sent to teach mankind of beauty and bliss
And of ecstasy I have tasted more
Than William Blake, Whitman, or Baudelaire
And the stars at night shine more bright for me
Than they ever did for Van Gogh
They offer me their sacred fires to comfort my soul
You see, the separation before reunion
Is never absolute
When you have such a clear vision
Of the woman you will one day love:
The sky speaks of her face
The oceans remind me of her grace
The earth so silent
Keeps her safe
Even the flames of fusion in the hearts of stars
Are the place
Where our wills are forged
We will find each other again
And love as we once did before.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
  Her Eyes
The brown in her eyes
Ensnares with its light
I fall to the center of the earth
And am reborn as moist leaves on the ground
The dreams of spring long gone
The spice of summer's delight
Still burning furious in my heart
Surely the beauty in her face
Is a thief stealing my happiness
Leaving emptiness in its place
Every single time I see her
Her presence, her grace
Bind me with chains of desire
Torture me with flames of pain
Force me to walk within my dreams
And watch them all betrayed
I shall wander lost forever
Driven by the winds of her smile:
The waves on the sea
Their foamy crests
Her hair flowing across my chest
Soft as thin mist
Tossed into the sky.
My dreams follow her radiance
As the tides the moon
As the stars the paths they did not choose.
Once she held my hand
I was lost in a foreign land
In a forest of dark peace
In groves amid a wilderness unknown
And yet, always,
The light of her face reflects
The deepest secret of life
Which few dare speak
Love flows through the center of the heart
And only those who willingly embrace
The winter of the soul
Can pass through the emptiness
Guarding the heart's gates--
Love hides its face
Because its beauty, its taste,
Is more than we can endure.
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*       *       *
In Your Hands
In your hands I am emptiness
Darkness is my abode
A place where the soul is lost
A time when the heart grows cold
The river flowing to the sea finds peace
The wave breaking on the beach finds release
Starlight falls about me in curtains of luminous rain
Oh night of dazzling pain
Is there no shelter for my heart?
I am in a universe without stars
Now that you from my life depart.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
In Pablo Neruda’s Footsteps
I am dead now
The fire has no where to burn
The smoke and smoldering desires of memory fade
The twigs, the leaves, the coals--
There is no fuel left for flame
Only the sound of your heartbeat
Only the seas of your love
Only this rain of tears falling
Though eyes, ears, and body no longer remain.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
 Too Much to Ask
Is it too much to ask for a woman's love?
I watch the clouds pass over the Koolau's
With moist hands, fingers pressing into the trees
Their tongues dip into the leaves
As their soft lips whisper, quivering
Like a drop of water
Delicately poised, balanced, shivering
Before running wild down the bark,
I listen to the wind at Sandy Beach
As it speaks of the sea
Of the wave's crest
Rising higher
Foamy white it hurls itself
Without thought, hesitation, or regret
As thin mist into the sky
As the diamond sun
Sings with enchanting eyes
Of dawn and twilight
Where two hearts unite
Day and night melting into a greater love,
I watch the stream in Manoa Valley
Drifting and turning
Curling around every rock
Letting go as it flows
As in a dream
Releasing itself
With sighs and gentle cries
Willingly it yields
Into the arms of the valley below
So naturally I think:
Love is not so distant
In every smell, taste, and touch
Its fingers play upon my nerves
Ravishing my senses
As it searches for my heart,
But women must know instinctively
To beware of intimacy with a poet
Women want men who are firm and strong
To lean upon
To defend their place within society
A man must be like other men
For it takes solidarity
Membership in community
To insure a woman's beauty is honored and well-received
Before she willingly opens the gates of her heart.
But I am like the wind
I penetrate the secret chambers of the heart
Into remote longings the mind has forgot
Into fires of desire society knows nothing about:
Every tree on earth listens when I speak,
Awakens, and shares with me its dreams,
I can so bind with the power of my mind
Any star in the sky at night
To reveal its magic and its songs,
Even minerals and rocks stir at my touch
And recount their birth
Long before animal or man walked these islands
But what woman would ever put up with crap like that?
Or fall in love with a man
Who calls the wind his brother
Who speaks to the sea in his dreams
Who sees beauty, the inner light,
Shining within all things--
The web of life
Intricately weaving the world
And all purposes into one design--
And who imagines a woman's love
To be as soft as moonlight falling through space
As gentle as the morning breeze
As yielding and sweet
As the stars at night
And the hearts of trees?
Although in dreams and visions
I am wealthy above all men on earth
The simple things in life:
Casual conversation, honest work,
Straight-forward intentions--
These elude my grasp
And so, perhaps it is too much to ask.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
 One Day
One day a woman will love me
As the ocean loves the shore
All night long I listen to the waves breaking
Like the heartbeat of a woman lying next to me,
As the moon loves the night
And is unafraid to shine amid its abyss of stars,
As the wind loves the sky
Sailing free it rises with the heat
And clings to you when it is cold,
As trees love the earth
Sturdy, solid
Radiant with beauty through all the changing seasons,
As rivers love to flow in spring
Splashing, laughing, running wild
Breaking free of winter's freezing hold,
As mountain caves love silence, darkness, and water dripping
And are unafraid of the flashflood
That surges through their hearts.
And in that day I shall be able to tell you
The songs the sea sings at night
The source of the moon's inspiration when it is dark
The dream the wind enters when it falls asleep
The taste of the twelve fruits of the Tree of Life
The joy of one who has found true love
And what it feel like when love
Penetrates into the secret chambers of the heart.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
The following poem is from the story told to me by a sylph named Capisi.   In this story, an Arab poet is caught between his love of Capisi and human morality that demands he put aside his love of nature and fulfill his obligations to society.
Hold Me One Last Time
Hold me.
Love me again with all of your heart.
I no longer wish to think or judge or reason
I surrender the knowledge of who I am
Of who I was meant to become into your safekeeping
Let me once again be suspended within your love
And sheltered by your heart.
I want so much to put aside my shame
I want to sit on a hillside once again,
In the stillness of night, in its warm embrace,
And look down from far above at an ocean bay below
I want to watch my shame depart
Like busy merchants loading their ships before dawn
Hurrying to meet their deadline
The tide is in, they sail off
Their sails vanish over the horizon
Never to return.
When I hold you
My pain is gone,
My hands upon your skin
And a luminous light
More serene than moonlight
More sweet than the ecstasy of starlight
More healing than dawn's first light--
The part of myself that is afraid
Willingly dies now within your arms,
I return to the source of life
Which I have never known.
May all your journeys take place
Within the circle
Where one heart is joined with another.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
This poem is inspired by the spirit of the Venus sphere named Guru.
 You Are Within My Soul
She says,
You are within my soul--
Take my hand
Let us celebrate together
The Joy hidden in the Heart of Life:
There is no pain within you
I can not reach,
There is no emptiness within you
I can not enter and make complete
There is no loneliness anywhere within your soul
That I can not be there and share it in full.
There is no anguish or weariness or wound
I can not tend and heal.
You feel new life slipping inside you at my touch
Yet you say to me, I am afraid.
I reply: There is no fear
Let go into the unbroken flow
My love sails through your blood and your bones
All the great battles of life
Are first fought within your heart
Even as nothing separates our hearts in this moment
All fear dissolves in the fire of our love.
You say to me, My path is dark and full of confusion.
I reply, The body is not separate from the heart.
Take my hands, in your own inhalation and exhalation
Is light enough to reveal
Each breath is a path of love,
Come, my love, in our touch, in our breath,
And in the words we share
Is fire that burns in the heart of the earth
And rivers that flow beneath the seas
And in our eyes, as we gaze into each others,
Is all the knowledge of our souls set free.
Come, set aside the memory of ashes
From cold places where you camped
Amid pain, loneliness, and wilderness.
Let go into the flow of our breath,
Our blood rising as a tide
The waves pulsing through your body have always known
That bliss is as near as a smile
And ecstasy rides upon the crest of the moment
When one heart opens to another.
If I held you within my body in this moment
(For I am a woman and know my own power)
You would sail down that ancient river
That flows through your soul
And even as you guided the craft
Your muscles flexed
The helm held steady
All your powers as a man engaged and unleashed
The fire within your heart and eyes charting the course
My love would blend and glide through your body
As the bow rides upon the waves
As the wind feathers and glides through the sails
And whether your quest
Searches the far reaches of Eternity
Or the mysteries of each moment
Your soul would know that in its journey
It is no longer alone
The treasure you seek is only found
When one heart is joined to another--
I love you and I will always love you
Wherever you journey
Wherever you go.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
The following poem was inspired by the song, Ailein Duinn, sung by Karen Matheson from the sound track of Rob Roy.


 Sings From The Heart
I can feel the electricity from her nipples
Bite my skin as her passion rises
Yet she sings from her heart this woman
Her grace enfolds me
She has laid her soul bare and naked
And slipped it within me.
I can feel her wetness dripping down her legs
As she takes me within
Even as I climb, scaling huge boulders
The water flowing and splashing
As spray and drops upon my skin
As I climb deeper, penetrating further
Up the ragged, jagged, and winding course
Of a mountain stream
Amid ravines I climb
Over fallen trees and past raging torrents
Until finally I reach
The source, the mountain pool
Surrounded by slippery smooth walls, impassable,
Yet she sings from her heart this woman.
I can feel her hips wild when they play
Joined to mine in intimate embrace
The wind wild as the sea
The wind evoking pollen and seeds
From the flower and tree
The wind creating clouds
From out of an empty sky
As warm and moist it ascends rising higher over the mountain cliffs
Opening its mouth to release fog and mist in the cooling air
Yet she sings from her heart.
I can feel her mouth searching my body for secret gateways
Which release my bliss to her tongue and her lips
In her eyes in this moment
I see the secret longing hidden in the eyes of all animals
The instincts which flow
Beneath the frozen ice of the mountain stream
The water dripping and exploding
In subterranean caverns which glide and hide
At the core and roots of mountains
Yet she sings from her heart this woman.
I feel the hand that caresses with tenderness my skin
I feel the hand of the moon
Whose caress can bleed the soul
Cold, wild, ferocious virgin that She is
The teeth in the moon light tear
And leave marks and pain upon my skin
More permanent than any welts
From the loneliness hidden therein
Yet the mouth of my Beloved and her lips
Heal every bruise and torment
With a fire more wild and complete
As she touches me with her mouth
As her lips follow secret pathways
To the source of pain and loneliness hidden within
Yet she sings from her heart this woman to my heart.
As her soul enters my body
Her words and the notes of her song
Her own heart speaks from out of my chest
Her thighs, her hips, her breasts, her hands, and her eyes
Dancing this very moment here within my body
Her tongue has learned to speak that ancient magick
The human race has yet to learn--
That lust and Divine Love are never separate
But move as one in every act of human and Divine Creation.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
Once long ago before I knew the ways of priests, magicians, and shamans, I was chanting in the woods.  And two young deer sat down beside me.  We spent the next two hours together.  I pretended to eat hickory leaves from a bush and they ran beside me through the woods.  But it was not good.

   I knew I was on the brink of  losing my sanity--if I remained a few hours longer with these deer among these trees where the light shines brown and green and the top soil and the stream running down are the silent wealth of the hills....I would neither recognize nor understand how to place my hand and press my thumb to open the door of my car parked and waiting for me patiently at the mouth of the valley.  Perhaps days, weeks, or months later, I would wander on to a road and be hit by a car or else be found starving and ill at the bottom of some hill at the edge of a ranch, suburb, or freeway.  Then no medical doctor on earth would be able to diagnose my illness.  And so I chose to return to my car and be haunted from afar rather than to walk alone into the unknown.

   But that was long ago.  Since then I have learned the ways of shaman, of shape shifting,  and transferring my conscious with ease into trees, rocks, stones, seas, every breeze, and other manifold forms of nature.  And so now when passion reaches for me it finds a kindred spirit, a soul with an inner land of forests, mountains, and seas where it is free to roam without hindrance.  Last night, for example, I was delighting in a ritual of passion. I was soaked in sweat like an ancient hunter who has transformed into the creature he is stalking.    And so this poem of celebration:


I Am the Wolverine
I am the wolverine
Wolves, mountain lion, and bear
Flee from me or else climb trees
To escape the fear I cause
Because of the terror
In my teeth, my jaws, and my claws
Their game I claim as my own
All this land I roam is my home
The Goddess of the earth has declared it so
She has placed this ferocity within me
A gaze so cold, alone, and bold
Others' hearts weaken
The fire in their eyes dies--
It is wise they avoid me
That they keep their distance
They know that if I wished
I could steal their soul life
The way the moon steals beauty from the night
Or the stars steal rapture
From the dark emptiness of the void.
Though my reputation is well-known
Few fathom my inspiration--
I am the will that turns the seasons
That changes night to day
It is what I am
I am its manifestation
That is to say
What shines in my gaze
Is beyond mortal understanding
You may think it odd
I speak so openly, freely, and with eloquence
But intelligence is no defense
And reason is no shield
Against the powers I wield
I take what I need
I leave claw marks on the bark of trees
My smell is sharp
I see in the dark
The possibilities others' hearts can not conceive.
I am the wolverine
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*       *       *
Shea says her Irish family is part of a werewolf clan, something she discovered on her own because her parents would never speak of it aloud in her presence.  I really do not know anything more about this other than, again, I awoke from a nap and wrote this poem for her spirit.
The Werewolf, For Shea
In my soul is a passion
Few mortals will ever know
Oh, that's not to say
That my cravings lacks history and tradition
Or that what I am resists definition
Its just that my lust for life
Makes all other desires lack spice
I am a werewolf.
The moon is my secret life
And the fire in my blood is a warrior's right
Whereas others love light
I am a creature of the night,
I know for you darkness is taboo
A wilderness where fear grows
But for me not so
The bones of the dead
And the blood that is shed
Are sacred light, they are my birthright
The howl in the night
Is my clan's call:
"Battlelust, heartsblood,
Sacred trust, joined as one--
Attack until we are done,
Fight until we have won."
In my soul burns a fire so pure
Terror can not come near
Many think I am cursed
But in truth what I am is clear
And my family's honor I hold dear:
I am fire flowing in the blood
I am an unknown and forgotten celebration of love
I am passion running so deep
I shape shift between animal and human being
In order to be complete
I am a werewolf.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
My Opposite
In that great epic poem, The Mahabarata, Dharma,
the law of the universe, once put a question to
his son, testing him.  The question was, What is your
opposite?  I ask myself this question
And my opposite appears--
My hands slide along the cool emerald skin of the python
Crawling, winding, curling, sliding through the jungle's secret depths
She sniffs the air
I taste the scent
Her eyes petrify the faint of heart, the weak of mind
I see through her eyes:
Trails of glowing heat laid out for her upon the ground
Pathways of smells floating down
Sensing that I am here, that I invade her soul
She shape-changes into a beautiful young woman
Her hair is wild, her scent the essence of  jungle leaves,
Her eyes devouring mine with mirth and tender craving insatiable
Naked she pulses rhythmically, closing in, tightening her grip,
Her caress is sliding, enfolding, and drowsy wet
Even as a screaming pleasure reveals its torment,
Saturated, ready to implode, a vacuum draws me further in--
No less than the moisture on leaves, rain falling through the trees,
The path of a tear, the drop into the ocean dissolving
Her invitation is bliss
Her invitation is oblivion
And her eyes I have seen before
In the mouth of a cave, in the call to come away,
In the soul is that is lost, in the soul that is saved
In the lips that taste of Springtime
In the lips that say: Night fades, I am Dawn,
Take your fill and be reborn.
Ah, but I will not strive with her
I honor her soul and her heart I hold within my own--
In the depths of her hunger I dissolve yet my light shines on
We smile at each other--
Fear within me she can not find:
I am the granite rock she can not bind
I am the mountain's patience
I am the silence neither fire nor desire can burn
I am Vishnu Schist
I record the beginnings of time
I open my hands and she sees the yearning in the secret chambers of stars,
She sees galaxies whirling,
She beholds the Lords of Saturn dark, mysterious, inexorable
Who guard and nurture those transformations which last forever
She returns to her serpentine form
Her head rests in my palm
She drinks with me the ecstatic wine hidden within her spine
The golden rays of sunlight
In rainbow splendor, in every mineral call out to her
As I sing the dreams of the elements in my songs
Intoxicated, enthralled, she let's down her guard
Her soul open, naked, and flowing into my own
The coiling implacable
The spiraling primordial
The craving impenetrable
She yields to me the secrets
That guard the feminine heart.
 Back to Index
*       *       *
For Debra
If you were the goddess Kundalini and I were Krishna,
Would you dance for me if I played my flute?
If you were a wolverine, would you sniff and follow a trail
Of claw marks I left on Blue Spruce bark?
If you were the darkness beneath a stone or the silence
Beneath a mountain, would you listen if I spoke
With the voice of the Earth?
If you are the wolf caught in a trap or the trap's
Claws grasping the wolf’s legs, would you still listen
To the voice of the wind as it caresses your cheeks
And sings of freedom?
And if you were in a place of lonely pain,
Would you still remember the soft touch
Of an infants lips as he nurses?
And do you remember the dream you once had long ago
Of a child who froze as footsteps approached?
Tell me, how do you open your hands
And thread and weave out of your own being
This circle of fire where the broken heart is healed?
 Back to Index
*       *       *
When I walk each day I often run into a stray bee hovering over a flower or winding his way home.  Occasionally they circle around my face or lift off for a moment to defend their space.  So far we have avoided offending each other.
The Bee
I am the honey bee
Buzzing about
Even the queen
Knows not my route
She does not keep track of me
I am free.
Every flower I see
I taste its nectar
Its fragrance I savor
And though I know
The flowers use me
To spread their pollen
And their seeds
Sticking to my legs and tummy
Still, I hum and sing
For it is Spring
The air is fresh
The sky blue
The breeze gentle too
The flowers in bloom
What more could I ever do or desire
Than to set sail on these winds
And touch these flowers?
 Back to Index
*       *       *
When Philip Carr-Gomm, the druid chief of the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids first came to the United States, I attended his week long seminar at the Omega Institute in New York   After the week was over, I noticed that when I touched a tree, the tree felt alive exactly as if I was touching the arm of a woman.  I also remember how J.R. Tolkein said that the elves woke up the trees and gave them voices.  For me, all trees have a voice and a spirit.  And if you listen, they are more than willing to share their dreams and visions.
I Speak with Trees
I speak with trees.
They answer my questions.
They share with me their secret dreams and visions.
They are not without passion.
"Do not your roots as they probe and search the earth
To quench their thirst for nourishment
Find peace and satisfaction?"
"Even as lovers taste and celebrate each other."
"Do not your needles and your leaves
As they drink in the sun's light
Delight in the interaction
Joined to such power and might?"
"With lips and fingers
The lover searches the beloved's skin
In bliss they fuse
Their hearts merge
The joy is rapture."
"Do you not stand alone
Firm and enduring amid the changing seasons
Because in you a greater will has found its home?"
"Fire is woven into wood
As are water, earth, and light
I am not afraid.
In my soul is the song of creation."
"Is this why your seeds depart upon wind and breeze
Risking death and annihilation
Because of the song that has called them?"
"Isolation and pain fade with the night
As birth and new light sing ecstasy into life.
Every season is the flower of beauty unfolding."
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*       *       *
St. Patrick you recall was credited with driving all the snakes out of Ireland.  He also took a harp away from a bard, you know, because music so beautiful can mislead the soul.
     I read this poem to an adult and she did not understand it but the children who were listening understood every word.
St. Patrick and the Elves
St. Patrick met a bard one day
And hearing him play
St. Patrick exclaimed:
"The notes of your harp
Are the same as heaven's own art
Except for one thing--
They are a little too much elvin."
And so St. Patrick took the bard's harp away
And put it in the corner of his room.
But late that night when St. Patrick fell asleep and dreamed
The cold wind from the sea swept into his room
And when the wind touched the harp's strings
Little elfin men came out of the harp
And filled up his room.
Then St. Patrick woke with a start
And cried aloud: "I know not the bard's art
How to send you back home
To the fairy realms from which you come.
What am I to do with you?"
And they replied:
"Only a saint can see us.
To all others we are invisible.
Let us go free so we can play:
In your world by the light of day
The rainbow sparkles in delight
And by night the sounding sea
And the breeze in the tree
Sing as sweet as any bard's enchanting melody."
And St. Patrick, with so many elves cluttering up his room,
Said in reply:
"I would be willing to give it a try
If you will serve the church for me.
You see, we on earth are not idle or carefree
Instead, we do work for God's glory.
You there, yes you, with the pale hands and long fingers
What useful thing for the church will you do?"
And the little elf said:
"I can take a heart broke in two
And mend it again
So that it shines like the moon."
And St. Patrick said:
"And you there with the pointed red cap
How about you?"
"I can take a little boy
And show him how to fly a kite in the sky
With stands from a vine and leaves from a tree
Carefully entwined, for this is a toy I have designed.
And not only that, I can teach a child to tie his shoe
Or to find his way home again when he is lost in the wood;
All of this I will do for you."
And St. Patrick said:
"And you there standing behind my table with your eyes so shy?
Do you also make toys that fly?"
"No, but I can teach your scribes
To draw bright colored letters of red, gold, and blue
With dragons and unicorns dancing through
So that learning to read and write
Will be a pleasure and a delight."
"And you with your head leaning against my wall
What is your where with all?"
"I will show monks and men
To ferment hops and honey
So that beer and mead
Teach the tongue to let go of dark secrets--
Then the sadness in men's souls will be banished."
And St. Patrick, who could tell right from wrong,
Was also a practical man.
He knew as well as me or you
That some things you just have to do.
So he let the elves go
And the people in that land
Were more happy and holy.
But a month later when the moon was dark
The harp did spark
Its strings flared with fierce flames emerald and green
And in the room stepped a fairy queen
Elegant, radiant, and gorgeous.
Her eyes were full of starlight
And her hair was blazing red.
And when St. Patrick saw this sight
He said:
"You are so lovely the sky and the sea
Can not compete with your beauty.
Your face and grace outshine the sun and the moon.
But I can not let you go free.
You would haunt my people in their dreams.
They would return to worshiping trees in groves
And to pray among standing stones."
The elvin queen replied:
"St. Patrick, you know as well as I do,
You can not keep me here with you.
My beauty is too great
Even you would lose your faith
And no longer desire to see God's face.
Let me go free and I promise you
I will take from the shores of your land
All the snakes of Ireland.
"You see, every creature of sea, wind, and land
Obeys my command.
The snakes will follow me home
To the Blessed Realms where I will go.
For only a saint as great as you is free to choose
To remain on earth to do God's will
And not fall into my enchantments.
"But in another age men will find a way
To sing God's praise and capture Beauty in one song
And this they will do both to honor God's glory
And for the sake of Love."
Now St. Patrick was not only a practical man,
He was also wise and so he said:
"Go in peace my child.
Do this work for the sake of the church
And I will search my heart
To see if your prophecies are true or not."
And when St. Patrick awoke the next day
All the snakes from Ireland had gone away
But his heart informed him he had made a mistake
To let the maiden of Beauty depart.
Though he tried to call her back
St. Patrick knew not the bard's art.
And so the land of Erin still awaits the day
When men will come forth no longer ashamed or afraid
To join in one song God's praise
With the Blessed Realm's Beauty and Love.
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*       *       *
Imagine that the gnome named Mentifil were to take incarnation as a human being while retaining his magical powers.  And imagine further that he were to fall in love with another human being.  Then he might write this poem.
To My Beloved
When the stream falls asleep and dreams of rain
When the mountain forgets its mass and weight
Its cliffs towering
It roots running deep
And walks among the stars
Listening to their songs in the night--
I sit against a redwood tree a thousand years old
The smell of the forest drowsy in my bloodstream.
I sit within a circle
My back to a stone placed five thousand years ago
I reach back with my palms
And feel its tough endurance
The lichens clinging to its rough surface
The stone rests so comfortably
Within a quiet peace
Its pulse throbs faintly
To the temperature changes of day and night
The seasons, the ages, the eons,
It still holds conversations with other times.
I dream with the stream, the mountain, the tree, the stone
Till I awake within your heart to discover--
For this purpose was I created:
To love you
And to celebrate together
The stars giving birth to light
The dark womb giving birth to the stars
I am no longer alone.
The gust of wind
Its ebb and flow
Holding its breath and letting go,
The waves of ancient seas
Memories sinking down
Into limestone
Metamorphic and igneous rock
Outcrops twisting and blending,
Driven by the winds of time--
These transformations, as are my own,
Are woven into one Song
In the silence of the night
By the beauty within your heart.
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*       *       *
This poem is part of my dialogues with the undine Istiphul. I wrote it with the assistance of a medium whose feelings I translated into these words:
Song of the Sea
Waves splashing against the shore, folding back,
Flowing back and forth and splashing more.
A soft sounding surge of waves upon waves
as herds of soft caresses rise, collapse,
Enfolding each breath in release.
On and on it goes--
A cold cup of water thrown in your face are these sounds,
A gentle touch clasping your finger,
a yielding and a swaying,
A dancing and a playing,
a playing which is exquisite pain--
And the pain a pleasure reflected in the falling drops of rain
Thrown by curling waves.
The gasps and sighs,
each sigh a bird unleashed
and in flight gliding low over the waves.
Each falling wave
Like the ocean's own breath rising from its depths floating
And surging now on the crest which edges even closer
To spilling into bliss.
On and on it goes, flowing without end--
this is the ound of the ocean making love--
it is unmistakable,   I hear it!
It is the sound of Istiphul when she is in love.
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*       *       *
I was having dessert with a lady who had been introduced to me by a couple who worked at Hickim air force base.  This woman was a Wiccan priestess in a local coven.  We were eating a hot fudge Sunday.  The ice cream was in a big scoop in the center of an icy cold metal plate and hot fudge was laid out on the plate in a design of interlaced flowers.  As we were devouring this, the woman was relating to me her adventures in different parts of the world.
     I did not realize that this woman was also a remarkable medium.  As I told her about different undines I had met, without any noticeable change in her appearance, she put aside her own consciousness and began speaking to me with Istiphul’s voice.  This is what the undine said:
When I look at you through my eyes
You are wonderful to behold--
A man of power, masterful, and in charge.
But when I perceive you through human eyes
You are thin, wiry, balding, and shy.
No wonder women do not respect you.
Their minds deceive them and their senses do not lead them
To listen to the songs the seas have told--
Hot blood flowing in their lungs
Moist air set afire with the taste of passion,
Power dancing with desire.
But we elemental beings crave you as our lover
You go for the heart
You ask for all that I am
Your love nearly tears me apart
I can hold nothing back.
As you kiss me waves collide
In mid-ocean from separate storms
Exploding in white foam as we touch.
But for human women it is not at all like this.
The hand that glides upon the skin
Does not beckon them.
I think they cling to identity excessively--
The light of the moon does not illuminate their darkness
And so their souls can not speak freely.
They feel not the electricity of the lightning storm
You release in me
Nor do they hear the consonants and vowels
Of waters crying aloud
Making love on all the beaches of the world
In the rapids, the streams, and the river's falls.
They know not the releasing arising from the ocean floor
Nor the sinking and letting go into the undertow
Nor the returning, the arching back in the wave's crest breaking
Its feathery tip translucent in the sunlight and sparkling in starlight.
Where can an undine go to share with a human soul these things?
The dark depths of the ocean trench,
The slippery touch of the jellyfish and the nautilus,
The caress of  arctic cold,
  Or the warmth of curling up on a tropical beach
Of a woman walking out of the sea naked and free
Drops of water anointing her skin.
Sailors handsome, rugged, strong, and bold
Perceive with acute vision
The winds, the tides, the wave's size, the seasons
And the clouds at dawn.
Brave are their hands upon the helm--
With compass and starry charts they master the dark
But in their eyes the blue green sea does not dream--
They are afraid of what they can not control.
But you are not as these.
In your soul waves roll five thousand miles
And magnetism flows between the poles
And when I kiss your lips
It is I who drown in your bliss.
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*       *       *
Again, a poem from my dialogues with the undine Istiphul.  I wrote this poem while sitting near the ocean as large waves thundered against the rocky shore and spray drenched me from a twenty mile an hour wind.
An Undine’s Prayer
Wild winds wash over me
Caress the breasts of these waves
With ripples running free
Take me, ravish me
With your kiss of bliss
With your hips of thunder
Spread your fingers on my skin.
As you dip your tongue
Into my troughs and crests
I throb, my body rolls over
Bound to your heartbeat
My tides rise higher
Your breath stirs my currents
As your lips fly, hover, and then dive
Into my waves and thighs
As your hunger invades my inner recesses.
Oh, for a mortal lover
With the passion of the wind
To feel his eyes burn
As they glide upon my naked skin
His desires sinking down into my depths.
Lord of the Winds—
Search the earth for a lover
Relentless to discover my ecstasy,
Sounding sea—anoint me with your heartsblood
That I may know such love,
Running waves—rise and break
In sighs and cries until he comes.
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*       *       *
We all get sentimental at times.  I wrote this poem one lonely night.
The Feeling of a Woman
Does the moon shed no light for me tonight?
Does love neither seek me nor reach for me
When I would share my heart?
Ah fool, I tell myself,
Nearly half a century is gone
Yet the passions of youth burn ever strong.
I remember the girl whose love broke me in two
Her affection was soft and sweet as the moon
Her smile, her heartbeat, her eyes
Were greater than any tide
Like this night, she left me
Abandoned, without light.
The feeling of a woman
Is like a pool flowing beneath a mountain:
No sun dawns
No moon rises
Yet the water is luminous,
Cool, soft, soothing
Amid transparent light, silence dancing:
The taste of love a secret sharing heart to heart.
Some will die without having felt this touch
Some hearts will harden, turning bitter, dry, and cold
Because the memory has grown old.
But I remember her smile, her heartbeat, her eyes
Though no moon shines this night
Though no hand reaches for mine
The waters of my heart
Flow cool, soft, and full of luminous dreams
Dancing with the silence of this night
Overflowing with love.
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*       *       *
By knowing our opposite, we come to know ourselves.  The two genders conceal and also reveal each other’s secrets and each other’s mysteries.  But the journey of discovery is not always easy.
Women and the Sea
Why has it taken me so long to grasp
This most basic of facts:
Women are like the sea—
In her arms
Warm and gentle
I lie on a tropical beach
The sun lazy and sweet
The moon spilling over with enchanting dreams,
I set my sails
By the winds of her smile
Her eyes shine with ecstasies
I have yet to find
As she says:
“Take me, ravish me
Search out all my secrets
Impress me with your abilities
I am yours to possess
If you can discover my bliss.”
Her waves are round and soft
Splashing with laughter
My craft surges and rides,
Her moist, wet kiss
A thin mist upon my cheeks
The land vanishes from the horizon
Yet she remains by my side.
Off the coast of Central America
Through a mountain pass
The winds blow fierce
Catching your sails
They drive you West
With huge waves and gusts
Sailing down wind
You try to ride the storm out
Until on the third day
The crest of a thirty foot wave
Breaks over the deck
The boat hidden beneath a foamy, white crest
But now the storm is past
I know women like that:
With the hunger of the wind
They will devour you or empower you
It makes no difference to them.
The helmsman of a forty foot catamaran
Who sails from Kauai to the Big Island
Says he prefers to have sailors on board
From the Great Lakes
Local sailors, he complains, are accustomed
To predictable trade winds
And so their eyes do not study the horizon
Nor do they smell the air
Searching for any indication
Of the mood swings of the sea
But on Lake Huron or Lake Erie
A lion squall can smash down on you in less than twenty minutes
Gusts of a hundred miles an hour
The waves blown flat without white caps
Horizontal rain flailing your face
And then in a few moments it is passed
I know women like that:
In their eyes, unprovoked,
A ferocity rises up, ready to attack
To smash you flat
Before falling back
Denying its own presence
Behind a wall of vulnerability and sensitivity.
Once I flew a spinnaker
Two thousand square feet of sail
Round, soft as silk,
Floating in the air off the bow
With lines, winches, and pole
I kept the sail on the edge of a luff
Barely fluttering, quivering,
Hypersensitive to each nuance of wind shift
The sailboat gliding over the waves
The stays taut, the mast tense
The helm guided by a firm hand,
After three hours of unbroken concentration
My body and mind joined to the wind
I said to another sailor,
“I wish making love could be like this
The body and breath one,
Adrenaline and endorphins running this thick
In the bloodstream.”
But he did not understand what I meant—
In a society where women are not fully aroused
The men are materialists
Their eyes are blind
Their hearts are closed
Having never tasted the feminine essence
They do not see
The inner light shining in all things
Through the translucent waves
Whispering in the wind
Calling to them in their dreams
The sea says, “Come and dance with me,”
But they do not understand,
Such men fail to attain to their destiny
Light does not illuminate their visions.
You may think I exaggerate to make my point
But I tell you
Once when a bank of gray clouds
Closed in with thunder
And ribbons of lightning glancing down
As twilight faded into darkness
The mast and sails began to glow
With a purple, greenish light
And a humming sound
Like listening with your ear against a bee hive
Saturated the air
And the hairs on our arms stood up
Excited by the touch
Of St. Elmos fire
I know women like that:
They have passions and moods
Which men have never seen
Electric, their desires flair up
They touch you in the dark
And then, without a second thought,
Without a care, they depart.
One night, alone in a small craft,
The sky was overcast
I could hear the waves breaking not far off
Against a rocky shore hidden in darkness
But I could not turn out to sea
The waves were too great
When the wave’s crest broke
Over the stern I took on water
And so sailing only by sound
I listened to the waves
Bearing off when the breaking crest
Was too near
Until two hours later
I sailed past the tip of the island
I know women like that:
Shoals hidden in darkness
Uncharted, unmapped,
Places where dreams are shattered
Lives are shipwrecked
And to survive them
You must make darkness your friend.
And even when you are ashore,
When you think you are safe and sound
Where your feet are really on solid ground
It is still like visiting Sacred Falls on Oahu,
I have floated naked in that mountain pool
At dawn as the sun’s golden, molten breath
Caressed the rocky heights
The water so cold yet inviting
So exciting, yielding all of its being to my touch
Like lips which finally surrender a kiss
But then later on when I had left
Falling rocks kill others right where I had stood
That place, though sacred, is also a trap
I know women like that—
They can be incredibly sweet and kind
And then turn and stone you to death
Like their worst enemy from another lifetime.
But then again
The sea never did promise me
She would be an easy conquest
To state my case
Concerning women and the sea:
If you look carefully enough
Into the eyes of any woman on earth
Hidden in the depths
You will find a quiet dignity
And if you meditate on what you find
You will hear her say:
“I am waiting for a lover
Who is wise, strong, and tender
To discover my secrets
To taste my bliss
To ravish my heart
And yet who lets me be
As wild and free as the sea.”
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*       *       *
This was a poem I wrote while meditating with Asmodel of the sphere of Jupiter.  It is Asmodel’s commission to inspire and guide loving communities which are also powerful and wise.
Psalm for the Sea 7
The blue-green purity of an arctic sea
A faint mist drifting upon its surface
The blue-white glacier
Clinging to the mountain slopes
Or resting within the valley
It is winter when the herbs are bitter
And the sun dim and distant
There is a time
To retreat and to sleep
To withdraw from the outer world
In the arms of love
Is soothing release
In its embrace
The cold of the world
Leaves no trace
Yet the ice, the frost, the snow
Are not indifferent
They are not without love—
In the winter of the soul
Is the greatest vision
Of the Beloved’s face,
A sojourner once said to a woman,
“I love you so much
If you held me within your heart
Winter would no longer be cold
And ice and snow
Would be warm to the touch.”
The woman replied,
“I am afraid the silence of snowy fields
The icicle’s chill
And the touch of frostbite
Can offer more love than I
But if you see the beauty within my soul
And can celebrate it
Even when it flows bitter and cold
Even during the dark of winter when no light shines Then I will give you my love.”
From the poles to the black volcanic beach
To the white sands of the Aegean Sea
The oceans enfold the world in their embrace
They absorb the heat of the sun
Cooling the earth by day
Warming the earth by night
In love’s embrace
Is the preservation of light on earth
Whose heart is as deep and vast as the seas?
Who heart nourishes all life on earth?
Whose heart can greet the wind’s passionate kiss
With waves running wild and free
And yet absorb the light of the stars by night
In a place mirrorlike and at peace?
The man replied to the woman,
“I shall be a mirror so empty and clear
Your beauty shall finally shine
In all its radiance
I shall give you a cup to drink
Filled with the wine of the sun
Which persuades winter to let go its grip
So spring is free to come
And when we are separate
Neither the depths of the sea
Winter’s cold
Nor even the dark ocean where the stars shine
Shall diminish our love
Our hearts will be forever one.”
“Who are you?” she asked,
He replied,
“I am the voice of love
The one you have called
From the depths of your heart
And I have come to celebrate with you
The love that renews the world.”
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*       *       *
The next few poems pertain to the element of fire which is strong here in Hawaii where a volcano is almost always flowing lava to the sea.
Song of Fire
A moonless night
Darkness thick in the air
A rage trapped within fear
Where is this?
What landscape of the soul
Have we fallen into now?
Do not mistake this place
For a wasteland of terror and death.
It is another source of life—
Streams of lava flow here
More viscous than water
The heat a dripping wax
Burning the air
Seeking to devour
Whatever is near
The red and orange light
Flashes of yellow
Patches of molten black
Surge down the hillside
Shaping themselves to the land
A glowing hand grasping the earth
The animals flee, trees explode,
There is no spray in this river
The waves, liquid, metallic,
Rounded and curving move with zest
Without release or crest
The rapids silent.
As these islands rise from the sea,
The whole world was once like this:
Raging mountains,
Black, smoking deserts
Red and gray clouds of burning ash
Encompassing the planet.
But now the song is simple, pure, and clear—
I am the lava flow
I love the earth
Darkness seeks my soul
But my mouth and tongue kiss the ground
As she burns with my pleasure
Yet I am not lascivious
I am the childhood of rocks
I am a dream in labor
Though my time is brief
No force controls me
Until at last
As the sea reaches to clasp my fingers
I turn to steam and gas
I shatter with delight
This night, as I finally
Lie down and rest,
The stars will sing in my ears.
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*       *       *
This poem I wrote while meditating on a cinder cone.
My Lover
A wilderness of fire
A cinder cone of liquid, vermilion rain
A torrential storm of scarlet flames
Volcanic hunger
Breaking free
In primordial victory
Over dark chaos—
Molten streams flowing
Dreams of islands rising
Amid the sounding sea,
“Walk with me,” she says
As she takes my hand,
“I am yours to command
I only ask in return—
To ride the thundering waves
Burning in my heart
Exploding in this place
Where peace and beauty
Lie down and fall asleep
In the arms of power unleashed.
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*       *       *
Itumo is a salamander who specializes in lightening.  He is a rather dynamic and mysterious being.  I am very fond of him.  One day he said to me, “I know more about what is going on inside you than anyone else on earth.”  I wrote this poem after I had joined my mind to his.
Do you know what its like when lightning strikes?
In an instant the earth and the sky unite:
The tree, the flowing stream, the hilltop, the rock—
Their hearts burst so that the thirst of the cloud for the earth
Might be satisfied.
Do you know what it is like inside a thunderstorm?
A sea of rain, froth of mist, and vapors churning
Electricity building
Passions locked in a frenzy, intensifying,
Power exalting in strength and beauty
Uncoiling within itself
Until, unable to be contained,
Ecstasy takes flight upon the wings of freedom.
Do you know what it is like to explode
From the core of your being—
To be a flame of white light
Reaching down from the sky
And up from the earth
And to celebrate this art within your heart?
I will tell you:
It is bliss unafraid of emptiness
It is love unafraid of loss
It is desire burning so hot
It annihilates the shadows within the lover’s heart.
Wherever there is an abyss, a chasm, or a gulf
Within nature, between one heart and another,
Or separating mankind from the divine—
My joy and delight will suffice
To pierce and shatter the darkness of any night
So you may find the path across.
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*       *       *
This poem is inspired by the fire elemental or salamander named Orudu.  It is written with his voice.  Orudu oversees all great volcanic eruptions occurring on our planet. I imagined one day that Orudu had taken a human woman as his consort, taken her back with him to live within and master the powers of fire which he knows so well.  Franz Bardon sometimes mentions that elemental beings such as undines can acquire the body of a human woman to become the lover of a magician.  I imagine it works both ways—a human woman can also transform into a spirit with the powers of the elemental beings.  If I leave my house, in forty-five minutes I can be sitting in complete isolation by the pools of Makapu’u at the edge of the sea.
The Pools of Makapu’u
Three to six feet deep,
Ten feet from the razor sharp, rocky volcanic shore
The crests of the sea’s pounding waves nourish these pools
Where I come to worship
Memories of what has been and what shall be
Cupping your head in my hands
You float naked
Ripples running from your body
Across the mirrorlike surface
Returning again
From the edges of the pool
Striving to reach across your hips
To swirl in the crease
To circle and curve
As they embrace your breasts
Set like a diamond in an emerald sea
Your body lit
In each drop of water
Raging and sparkling with solar flame upon your skin,
The bottom of the pool
Blue-green water over saffron and rust sands,
Manini, aholehole, humuhumu lei and a-pua’a also
Linger in the crevices
Cast here upon the surge at high tide,
Your arms float by your sides
A pod of whales, two adults, two calves
Frolic off shore
Breaching and spouting
Your legs slide beneath the surface
Following the moon diving beneath the horizon
As the high tide lets go its hold upon the shore.
The water is thick in these pools
Yet here the moist tongue’s tip—
The taste of salt
On your skin
The taste of desire
Light dipping into water
The glow of fire
Water yielding
Rippling shadows
The dancing heat stroking
The sun caressing your skin.
Once each century
I journey to these pools in mortal form
Beneath Makapu’u’s cliffs
But older than this island
I have risen from beneath the waves
Exploding, unfolding, flowing
From beneath the mantel of the earth
Yielding to my hunger
To build new islands
To expand from fiery depths
Concealed in mammoth lakes of fire.
Who am I?
No bite, sting, tear, or puncture
Can match the devouring hunger
Flaring and imploding within my mouth
When I cast off
The garments concealing my shoulders
My strength appears:
I am the one
Who rivets the land masses
To the continental shelves,
I am the one
Who twists in his palm
The folds and valleys in the oceans’ depths
Every last one
They surrender before my power:
The tidal waves
The titanic force rippling through the earth
When but for an instant
I touch them in their sensitive place
As this woman
Who out of freedom returns to me again and again
Yielding to me her love
We appear in mortal form again to celebrate
The beauty of these islands where we first met
I, a god of fire,
And she, once a woman,
She floats again in this pool
Held steady by my soft touch.
The fire in our love for each other
Is unmatched by any other lovers on earth.
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*       *       *
In Hindu mythology, the goddess Dawn is the most beautiful
of all the goddesses.
The Goddess Dawn
She puts her head on my leg
And wraps her arms around my waist
To touch a goddess so fine
Is next to divine
Even her skin radiates light
Like the solar corona
During an eclipse of the sun.
We wait together through the darkness of night
The wind hovers over the earth
Like a cat playing with a mouse
Its paw dropping down on the trees
To tease and maul the leaves.
No light yet
But a honey warmth
Wells up through the ground
Ah, there it is now
A tide of purple flowing into indigo
Barely perceptible
Or is it just my wish—
To trade pain for love
The power of words joined with will
To make the world anew
Rather than cherish each moment as it is?
Last night a Japanese girl handed me a small black statute
Of Ganesha, so I told her the story of Ganesha’s father, Shiva—
That even a god can fall in love and then suffer terribly
When his heart is broken
Until the Creator himself comes offering reassurance:
“Separation is followed by love—
Shiva, you will be reunited again with your lover
In her next incarnation on earth.”
And now the first bird begins to sing
Its voice dancing on the wind
Breaking through the night’s fast of silence
It is not my imagination
A greyish dark blue perfume
Takes hold of the sky
But the goddess Dawn is still asleep by my side.
“Goddess, isn’t it time for you to rise up
And to greet the sun?” I ask.
“Let me sleep in just this once,” she says,
“Your body feels so fine next to mine
Why don’t YOU sing my hymn to the sun this time?”
(Now, the one thing you never want to do with a goddess
Is to show her disrespect) and so I reply:
“I’ll give it a try.”
Gazing into the East
I raise both my hands in salute
And speak aloud:
“Royal King
Your mighty voice reaches to the ends of the universe
Your flames of inspiration
Seize my heart to tear it apart
So great is your Joy
And yet my lips still separate
My breath does not hesitate
As I call out:
Rise up, dissolve again this darkness within me
Burn my sorrows away
Annihilate the night
Take these shadows which are my life
I will trade them all gladly
For a single taste of your Love
Lord of Light
Dazzling and bright
I hear the Archangel playing his horn
The notes of the first dawn
I hear a billion stars rhapsodizing in an infinite song
While the birds trade the despair in the air
To spread praise and harmony everywhere,
Magenta now glows, swirls of a woman’s hair in soft light
Kind and noble Sir, find me work in the world of day
As fine as gold that never fades away
Teach me your ways
That my heart might shine like your own
My Champion,
Rise up, share your light with the world.
As the sounding sea calls out to the shore
Come and explore, be brave, dauntless and free
As the wind sails through the sky unobstructed
Like thought in the mind of enlightenment
In a soul that overflows with light.”
“Ah, not bad,” says the goddess to me,
“But you missed the pink and the violet
The citrine and the lilac
With the green on the fringe
And you didn’t even notice when the doves began to sing
And I think you cry too much
The child in you still needs a loving friend
But that will come
For now, just celebrate each moment as it is.
There really is no separation you know
But this is a wisdom you must learn on your own
Now it is time for me to go
I have to put on the rest of the morning show.
My sweet bard and friend
We’ll meet again
Whenever your heart longs for mine.”
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*       *       *
The following poem I wrote after performing a druid pathworking.  The exercise involved going off and speaking with a goddess.
Goddess of the Cauldron
You want to know what I am brewing in my cauldron?
I will tell you:
It is leaves falling down
Red, gold, vermilion, and brown
Carrying to the earth the song of the sun
Rain washing over them
Water soaking twigs, bark, roots, and fallen trees
Running into the streams
Carrying the song of clouds that roam free upon the wind.
It is the blood
Of the lion, the salmon, the crocodile, and the wolf
It is the blood of the Earth
Boiling in my cauldron
The fruits of Her sorrow
And Her joy also in giving birth.
It is the brine in the spine of mountains
The silent yearning in granite and quartz
The mountains stand tall and mighty
But time grinds them to dust
The shores of oceans are decorated with their sands
The dreams of ages past and future are the wine
I stir into my cauldron
All of this I mix, boil, cook, and refine.
Your life is a part of my wisdom
My light was shining at your birth
Your trials in life are the herbs I set out to dry
I grind them with my mortar and pestle
I sprinkle them in to perfect my draught.
You may think me severe
My knowledge too terrifying to behold
But the ingredients in my recipe are only these:
The body, soul, and spirit of the Earth
Taste but a drop
And your vision is clear--
Freedom and love combine
Neither space nor time can bind
Those who drink my elixir,
Such can afford to be gentle and kind
They can afford justice and compassion
Because their wealth of spirit knows no limit.
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*       *       *
This poem is from the story, The Poet Amir, told to me by the sylph named Capisi.  In that story, Capisi temporally incarnates as a human being so she can become the consort of an Arab poet.  And she writes this poem.

In Greek mythology, Psyche was a human woman. In response to a message from the Oracle of Delphi, she was abandoned at the edge of a cliff to be consumed by a monster.  But it was not a monster, as some would tell us, but the god Eros who came to her.  She became his lover and, finally passing the impossible tests of Eros’ mother, Aphrodite, Psyche was transformed and granted immortality as a goddess among other gods.

The Song of Psyche
He comes to me at night
But though he is invisible
My every need is met
I have minstrels and bards
Attendants, jesters, and noble knights
Who keep me company
But my sisters so jealous say
“Look upon his face
Every relationship must withstand the light,
Men are not gods
They are puppy dogs.”
They tell me:
“Light an oil lamp
And stab him in his sleep.”
They think it is a monster
Who holds me in his keep.
I share with my Beloved their words
He says—“Love such as ours
Is in-between mortals and gods
And I have not been fair with you,
But I fear the Goddess of Love
Will test you
And seek your life
If you should learn my name
Or see my face this night.
But before you decide,
Let us once more embrace
To cherish this moment forever
For love annihilates time
And all barriers separating human and divine
Melt within its fires.”
Surely, my Beloved is Love Divine
I become the Earth
And he becomes the Sky
A lotus of silvery light
Blossoms in the night
And I its perfume,
Its fragrance,
With this love, this song,
I fertilize the stars
As I hold him in my arms.
Within my belly
A pool, cool and magnetic,
Captures the moon’s light
As my hands slide
Slippery and moist
Over every inch of his body
May this night have no end
I rise again
His lips, his tongue
The tides of my desire respond
I am the rain falling upon leaves, trees,
Slipping through mountain meadows, ravines,
To fall into the streams
Suddenly, throbbing for release,
Saturated, overflowing with burning need
Hurling through my body a flashflood
I explode over falls
Pools deep and serene
Can not contain me
His body
An electrical storm within my dreams
Lights the darkness where I wander
My hunger now whirls and turns
At his touch
His lips devour me,
Were I to join with the sea
Were I to contain the stars in my embrace
I would still trade my freedom to see his face
Darkness can not bind a love such as this
No god or goddess can constrain this bliss.
My Beloved,
You are the spark at the center of my being
At your touch
I become the whirlwind upon the seas
And this blossom of lunar light
Within my belly
Its petals open to embrace your heart,
More enduring than any constellation
Our love is a pathway to Eternity.
Light born from fire
I clasp you tighter
My breasts burn at your touch,
My tenderness
Soft and soothing
Drops of honey
This nectar an elixir
An intoxication without end
I drink your lips
The wine of passion
I savor, I sip,
I rise again upon your love
The ache taking flight
The cold shivering shining with light
I drop my head back
I draw closer, I press down
I dissolve into a place
Thoughts may not enter
But here you are joined with me forever
I no longer know who I am
Except a path of love that has no end
And I will travel it—
I meet the Queen of Death, Darkness, and Night
Spellbound, enthralled
She offers me her gift of immortality
To celebrate our love—
My Beloved,
Every desire and need
Every path and destiny
Return again to be revived
To savor the light within your eyes
To taste the Joy within your heart
To drink the beauty of this night
As I hold you in my arms.
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*       *       *
Sexuality is a beauty unfathomable
Its wonder beyond human reach
Though you can see it walk and touch its strength
Feel it and taste it
Hear its voice speak
Its power is mysterious
Like lightning lighting up the night
The polarity generating the strike
Remains concealed
In magnetic currents flowing
Within the cloud and the ground
In an invisible striving
To grasp and clasp each other—
Beauty, from the unmanifest, the hidden,
From darkness wraps itself
In the first rays of the sun
Reaching out, its fingers,
Softer than the wind,
Glide upon my skin at dawn
I awaken in the arms of love
And know not what Spirit to worship—
Though the names of God are well-known
His attributes delineated with diligence
Both subtle and profound
The Creator of this wonder remains unknown
Except within my heart
More thin than the strand of a spider’s yarn,
A filament, like a lute string,
Begins to burn with a light
Without beginning or end,
When I kiss your lips
All life, every heartbeat, every breath
Sound within the silent depths of my heart,
Thunder, the hurricane, the earthquake,
The mountain that explodes in fire—
All of nature wishes to serve the purposes of love—
Letting go of their terrifying hold
Of their raging craving to devour
Earth, air, fire and water
Willingly yield me their power
As they curl up and fall asleep in my palms,
Your eyes are the mirror where the stars linger
Unable to escape attraction so magnificent
They seek you when they wish to renew
Their dreams of peace,
As your chest rises and falls
Your heartbeat calls
It captures my soul in its song,
The universe is a wilderness,
A desert where I wander lost and alone,
Until you appear
Your body an oasis
I drink from your waters of life
As I rest my head on your breasts.
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*       *       *
Stargazing is not a particularly hot topic these days though it is still possible to find someone such as an American Indian who practices this art.  But in another age, if you herded sheep or were an astrologer or an astronomer, you might have enjoyed stargazing.  The procedure is rather simple.  You sit out under the sky at night and pick one star.  Then you gaze at it without any thoughts or distractions.  And then,  when you are ready, you let the light from that star enter and fill your entire body with its vibration as if your body is an empty vessel designed to be filled with light.  Then you notice the impressions, images, thoughts, and feelings which come to you.
One night I said to my wife during a walk, pick any star in the sky and I will tell you its songs and the specific magick it contains.  This poem was written in a similar vein.  Note—the stars in the four corners of Orion are from the top left of letter “K” which is Orion moving clockwise Betelgeuse, Bellitrix, Rigel, and Kappa Orionis.
She disrobes, lies down on her belly,
And asks me to stoke her back
As I caress her I climb a hillside in a thick fog
A cold mist walks inside my body
I shiver, her skin is so smooth
I lose my way as the mist swirls about my hips
The forest dim and barely lit
I fall into an icy stream
I sink down and am lost within her bliss.
As I caress her back
My palms burst into the cold, wet flames
Of Bellitrix, glittering blue, luminous,
I am suspended outside time
I am suspended within a liquid diamond
Whose heart is so precious, so fine
I would linger here forever
And not depart
Did not the heart of my Beloved
Bid me return
For her heart shines brighter
More clearly,
And with a greater love.
Having invaded his territory
Orion puts his hand on my shoulder
The Hunter calls out my name
He asks me, “Brother, what is your quest?”
I answer him thus:
“The highest love permitted to those in mortal form.”
Then he gazes into my eyes with furious courage
A hunger deep in his belly striving against his will
And he says: “Then may you never be alone.
There are places between the stars
Where one heart may not sojourn.”
As I caress her back
Rigel greets me and whispers in my ear,
I slip inside a spruce tree that stands all year
Amid a mountain slope’s white snows
The voice within the tree sings to me
Of clouds drifting upon the wind
Of the sky freezing to stone with
Purple, vermilion, orange, turquoise bands upon its head
And Rigel whispers—“I give to you the soul of fire
Blazing within jewels emerald, amethyst, opal
I give to you the secrets hidden in spiraling towers
Amid civilizations lost and futures unborn,
I give you eyes which see through
The stony mists of  time
And the lost hillsides of the mind.
As I caress her back time
A red hummingbird with wings of green
Lights upon my wrist, his claws tickling my skin
His eyes lock onto mine
And he sings
Yielding his spirit into me--
Each moment dividing into tiny segments
My entire arm pulsating with his passion
To turn the world with its colors and scents
Its tastes and its sounds
Into a whirlwind of pure sensations
And he to hover within the eye of time
To drink in its nectar
I taste with him
The flower’s elixir
Its sweetness spilling over into my being.
As I caress her back
My hand is upon the helm, the varnished oak tiller
Pulsating as the bow plunders the waves
I guide the craft closer to the wind
The draft of the sail set as smooth as a bird’s wing
The smell of the ocean air
The dreams born amid the sparkling waves of the sea
She yields her body to me
My palm the warm song of the summer sun
Sinking into green leaves.
As I caress her skin
It is I who am blinded by the dazzling light
Igniting beneath my palm as her skin begins to flush
Her body shivers in rapture at my touch
An approaching colossal wave
From distant galaxies raging wild amid celestial storms
Drains away my consciousness
My mind sinks down behind my tongue, my chin
Through my neck, my chest, and down further into my belly
Raging currents carry me into the center of her body
Our hearts begin to merge
A blue giant and a dense red sun collide
I witness the birth of love
Separation is now the illusion
A new light appears where once there was none.
As I caress her
The backs of my fingers trailing
My hand enfolding her skin
Kappa Orionis pours his soul into mine
Great Pilgrim
All that is Divine pays homage to the Gateway he commands
His magical name—Cosmic Humility
His pathway leads me
Through the center of my body
And seven stars flow free
Joining in wild and terrible ecstasy.
As I caress her skin my hands flowing upon her shoulders,
The sides of her chest, the edges of her breasts,
A soul from Betelgeuse takes me by the hand
I enter the place where the stars themselves go to lie down,
To sleep, to rest, to be renewed.
Prajnaparamita, the cosmic mother, offers me her vajra
And whispers this stars magical name--
“The jewel that shines with Eternity,
She who hold the dream of the universe within her heart.
The waves of this sea are blue green
And each sparkles and glimmers lit by an invisible sun
Each star is a separate note
And this I would sing: the Song of the Universe Unfolding,
And having begun my task
I will not falter, cease, nor pause
Till every empty place vibrates with the love
Which flows from the One Light
Through my body, soul, and heart.
Who is this woman with whom my hands have offered love
In the tenderness of the night?
Is she not the soul men are meant
To find and call forth, awaken
And yes, to create and sing into being
Hidden within every women?
But if I assert my point
Do I not make a mockery of human love
Trading reality for dreamy visions?
I think not,
Though many think I am a fool
To awake during the night
As though to lead a hunting partner
Out into a dark and unknown land
To raid, to plunder, to steal, and to command
With more skill and daring
Than any Thief, Warrior, Magician, or King
The starry mysteries with my fingers and palms
As she lies next to me and my hands caress her skin.
Yet every night the stars
Come forth and bid each one of us
To open our hearts
Listen! Your eyes and your skin,
Your heart knows what I am talking about
And though they appear cold and distant
Lanterns on ships and campfires on islands
Sojourners, wanderers, wayfarers passing in the night
Crossing over the sea
Whose people we may never meet
I bear witness--
Each star is an instrument in the hands of Love
As they fuse, implode, and explode
I taste their nectar
I drink in their fragrance
As they sing to me
Their luminous dreams are my own
As I caress and hold my love within my arms
The passion in this night
Overflows and spills across the world
With beauty and ecstasy unbound.
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*       *       *
I was listening to a local singer, Melinda Carol, singing "What Child Is This?"  Though Christians imagine Christ to have completed everything, to be the beginning and the end, he does not inspire me in that way.   He is quite willing to act as a guide who empowers me to fulfill my own spiritual journey, to engage in my own process of discovery.  This poem and the following are from the story, The Bard.  The first is written by a man and the second by a woman.  They are statements of the desire to capture human and divine love within one experience.
A Celtic Prayer
I am the spider whose web
Captures the jewels which contain eternity.
I am the bird who worships Dawn
Yielding his being into rapture of song.
I am the claws of the Hawk
And his eye searching with cobalt will.
I am the wind—
The gust that twirls the leaf
And the wild hurricane clasping the ocean close to my breast.
In my cup is gathered the distilled essence of all the stars
My wand is forged in the fiery caldron of volcanoes
And with it I give birth to new worlds.
I have learned the language of angels
Meditating in ancient stone circles
And there the goddess Dawn whispers to me—
She wishes to give her heart
To the One the Starry Pole controls
That the young and the new might again
Walk hand in hand with the Mysteries.
Even so, my beloved, I seek to be one with you
That all things might be fulfilled
And fallen, fallen light renewed.
Patient as the Earth
I endure this winter of the soul.
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*       *       *
This poem was written under the influence of Ubarim,
a great spirit of love within the sign of Taurus in the Earthzone.
A Request
I seek another to celebrate with me
The boundless light saturating the universe with its love.
It is in the wind whose voice and wings
Embrace the cells within our bodies
And the shoulders of the mountains.
It is in the oceans, the rain, the rivers
Whose songs of grace and receptive life
Sail through our dreams
And touch the secret chambers of our hearts.
It is in the Earth—
She whose silence shelters and protects us
Until we are ready to assume our roles
As guides, guardians, and creators of life.
It is in fire whose dazzling force and power
Binds the universe with its might
And guides our wills as we chart our courses through life.
I will join my spirit with yours,
Let our hearts be one
Our minds merging and blending—
As light penetrates
And is one with the crystal it passes through.
 Come with me on this path of beauty
It originates in the stillness
At the center of the heart
Where all fear is banished—
It overcomes all time and space
Renewing itself without end
As it celebrates the joy, the rapture,
And the boundless life hidden within all things.
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*       *       *
 I wrote this poem after meditating with Aziel, the ninth spirit of the sphere of Mercury.
     One of the nice things about working with divine spirits is that they have these incredibly clear perceptions about the purposes of life and the level of creativity to which we are all meant to attain.
     A koan is one of those questions Zen masters use to trick their students into becoming more enlightened.  A local Zen master spent fifteen years trying to solve his first koan but he finally did. Perhaps each of us has a life koan, a question not assigned to us by a Zen master but by Life.  Like a Zen koan, it is not answered by the mind but by the heart.  This poem is my answer to my life koan.
My Life Koan
What is the source of love within you
Which heals the wounds of your heart?
My mind is the sky--
Pure, clear, and open
Its air flows through my chest
Its winds are my breath
My body is the Earth--
In me, Her Silence and endurance reach consciousness
Like Her, I shelter and I protect
I am one of Her fruits
I am the strength and nourishment upon which others thrive
The oceans are my magnetism and love
Rivers my bloodstream
Rain my moist fluids
Lightning my heartbeat
Thunder my voice
I am life sustaining and giving birth to life
The volcano and magma at the center of the earth
Are my will and power unfolding
I burn, I consume, I destroy
Yet I heal the broken heart
And bring joy and excitement to life
The turning of the seasons
The circle of the stars dancing
I am Eternity uniting with time
I am the nobility of the sun
Its inner union and fusion of opposites
And through its light
My Song streams forth to the ends of the universe
I am the serenity of the moon
Fluid, malleable, and changing
I am harsh, cold, and empty
I choose the place of your birth
I am warm, sweet, and nurturing
I reunite what is lost
All dreams arise from my light
I am tenderness overflowing from the heart
I am within and I awaken
The seeds of spirit hidden within all things
I am the Celebration of Life
I am the deepest peace within the soul
I only exist to reveal the gifts
Which otherwise remain unknown
And there is no where I will not go
To bless or join with those who love.
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*       *       *

The cosmic language is one of those fascinating magical practices which introduce the building blocks through which time, space, spirit, matter, and history are created.  Part of the practice is learning to identify with Divine Providence not as something out there but as something alive within yourself.   It is the light and vibration through which God creates creation.  I wrote the following two poems when practicing with these respective cosmic letters UE and U.

The Cosmic Letter UE
I am the benevolence of Divine Providence
I create, I inspire, I guide
I make all things anew in the fullness of time
I am the wish-fulfilling gem
I satisfy your deepest cravings
And reveal your highest path to perfection
I am the mysterious nexus:
Through my soul pass
The most obscure forces
Holding history in their grasp
I alter molecular vibrations with my touch
Amid your worst nightmare,
Your greatest fear,
Your obstacles
Impenetrable and severe
I open the gateway to freedom
Who Celebrates these things:
The beauty of the earth and sky uniting
The tossing and turning of the seasons in wild passion
And this also:
The vast, unknown reaches
Within a heart without hope--
Swirling cosmic dust
Giving birth to stars
Out of the dark womb of infinite space
My wealth is the joining
Of matter and spirit without limit
And my consort is the fire
Illuminating the world with universal love.
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*       *       *
The Cosmic Letter U
There is no vice I can not twist or bend
And make again into its opposite virtue
There is no compulsion or obsession I can not
So fill with light it becomes kind and bright
There is no ill will or malice I can not
Convert into chivalry or true nobility
There is no crunch or karmic bind, no evil intent or design
I can not refine within my mind
Into contentment and absolute satisfaction
There is no suffering
I can not so enfold within my palms
Spit on, blow upon
And recreate as beauty hidden in the heart of life
Such is my power and might
Such are the depths and the heights
Where my wings fly
But there is a difference you see
Between you and me
When you breathe in
You nourish your body
And expel your doubts
But in one breath
I consume entire lifetimes:
Grasping the horns of sorrow
I flex my will
Gather my strength
And play songs of joy.
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*       *       *
This poem is written by Baleem, the character in the Old Testament who could speak more easily to God than Moses or Daniel.  Unfortunately, he had a character flaw—like King Solomon whose mother betrayed her first husband.  Solomon never got over his distrust of women (and he says as much in his Book of Proverbs) and so he was never able to join with and fully celebrate the purposes of love.
Song of Baleem
God said to Baleem,
You have come so far in search of Me
Beyond all others on earth
But if you would taste My Mystery
Know my inner being, feel my essence flow through your veins:
Love me as the sky loves the stars
Love without barriers or boundaries
Forever offering light a place to shine
Love me as eternity loves time
The hours, the days, the seasons, the ages, the eons
I am in every moment, every breath, every heartbeat, every caress
Love me as the earth loves life
The mountains, the trees, the lakes, the seas
They nourish and provide
They offer all beings a place to abide
Love me as fire loves air
As a lover inhaling
Savors the fragrance of the Beloved
The other’s heart the fuel, the spark
Consuming until only ecstasy remains
Love me as the lightningbolt strikes
In the darkness of the night
Be my voice
Unite the heaven and the earth
Speak with a tongue of power
Which can ignite in others
The desire to behold the beauty of the universe
Baleem replied,
How can you ask such a thing of me?
I am troubled even by the sight of women
From my youth, for my whole life,
Their beauty has terrified my soul
Their splendor annihilates my peace
Nights I endure unbearable pain
Loneliness stalks me like an assassin
After searching for decades
After studying all wisdom on earth
I am left with only emptiness
I can not find this beauty within myself
God replied,
It is I who have created the earth and the sky
The volcano with its streams of molten rock
The void, the abyss, the chasm, the emptiness
All of these are a part of My Art
I have created desire
And paths of wonder to reveal My Mystery
Say not to me—the universe is a terrifying place
Beauty is unbearable
And I can not find my opposite within myself
Say rather:
Teach me the Divine Arts
That I might create as You do,
When I sing songs of praise
May I speak with a voice of wonder
That I might be one
With the mysteries I celebrate
So that all that I touch
Be filled with beauty, love, and power.
Baleem replied,
How can two love each other
Except they each have their own wells from which to drink?
If your love touched me for even an instant
There would be nothing left
Neither dust nor breath
If I were to taste your bliss I would cease to exist
No man on earth can endure the love of which You speak.
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*       *       *
I wrote this poem while meditating with a spirit of the sphere of Mercury named JahHel. JahHel taught me how to sit and meditate for hours without noticing time flowing by.  I feel an incredible affinity for JahHel.  At the first contact, he was like someone I had known for many years.  It is, consequently, very easy for me to imagine how someone like Jacob might actually meet and seek to obtain a blessing from such a being.
Jacob's Angel
Grasping a better hold as he wrestled with the angel,
Balanced, poised, muscles flexed, teeth clenched,
Jacob spoke, his jaw next to the angel’s ear:
“What is it to dwell in a body made of divine fire
Its very radiance so penetrating
The mountains and seas are transparent
And the stars are no more distant from you
Than my hands upon your skin in this moment?
“And what is it to have eyes that see through the ages
The gates of all realms stand open before your gaze
So nothing is hidden anywhere in creation?
What is it to have hands so luminous
The Divine turns to you to accomplish its will?
“And tell me, when you love,
What is it like to love when your love
Arises from a sea of infinite bliss
So every abyss is filled
And darkness is forever banished from your vision?”
And the angel replied:
“I will share with you my essence
If you can sustain this hold upon me
And bind me without fear
For I am not permitted to keep even one secret
From those who master themselves.
I am the perfection of concentration so great
The elements of nature obey when I speak.
Earth, air, water, and fire respond to my will
My every desire to fulfill.
“You may think such power beyond belief or imagination
But I do not act in isolation
As one wanting to make himself great
To demonstrate his power over fate.
When I meditate I am embraced
By countless beings of love and might
Who guard and guide all paths of wisdom and all evolutions,
With both mortal and divine I join my heart and mind
I unite with all who celebrate the Light
Embracing all of creation.
And in our celebration
Our joy is so great
There is no longer any separation
Between the Light we embrace and the love within our hearts.
“You may think only an angel may speak thus
But I tell you with words of prophecy
And with a voice of thunder and a tongue of divine fire,
If you strive and abide with me through all watches of this night
Until dawn’s first light
You shall discover that I, with all my power,
Am but a small part of your own heart."
Jacob said: “You speak of a mystery beyond the power of belief.
It is more than what I seek.”
“Oh Jacob,” the angel said,
“The seed which dreams of spring
Sleeping in silence beneath the earth
Knows not that spring is already within its heart
As is the soil, the wind, the rain, the earth
And the star that calls out: Arise and come forth.
"But form and limitation have been created
That the seed in growing into a tree
Might one day understand its journey
And as water, minerals, light, and air
Revive and renew its being
It shall perceive when the time is ripe
That life has no end
And that form is but the shell where spirit dwells.
" Then it shall send its roots down into eternity
And release upon the wind seeds
Giving birth to new worlds, new dreams, new destinies.
The soul unfolds, blossoming in due season,
Until its beauty shines so bright
Its light transforms the world.
"Jacob, behold! I hold in my hands
The twelve fruits of the Tree of Life
Which are for the healing of the nations.
Take them from me if you can!”
Then Jacob put forth all his might
With a mind like steel
And a will as sharp as a diamond knife
To pierce the heart of the angel
And to steal what has been concealed from mankind for ages.
And, for a moment, Jacob accomplished his goal:
Jacob’s eyes became the angel’s, his hands bright like the sun,
Their hearts merged and with the angel’s body he was one.
Then Jacob saw what the angel’s light
Was created both to conceal and to reveal:
A love of such magnitude
The entire multitude of heavenly choirs falter and fail
Their voice silenced before its magnificence.
Then Jacob asked, “Is there a human being in all the world
Who has the strength, the power, or the heart to persist
In a vision such as this, to bring a small part
Back to the earth that it might be shared
And celebrated forever by those who love?”
And angel replied,
“If this is your wish I shall grant it
For now the sun is about to come
And eternity commands me: Return home."
And then the angel spoke with a voice of thunder
Resonate and tender like Gabriel’s
Vibrant and mighty like Michael’s
"The history of the world
Shall revolve around your will.
Nations shall rise and fall in this quest.
Though some would twist and bend it to their own ends
Those who read the signs shall find a pathway to the divine
As you have found mine.”
Then Jacob said, “Wait! One last request before you go,
One last question still burns within my soul:
You who are everywhere and from whom nothing is hidden,
Your voice a billion stars shouting with delight,
Will you wrestle with me again another night?”
The angel gazed into Jacob’s eyes and then replied,
“Within you is the answer to your own question.
As I have said, I am but a small part of your own heart.”
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*       *       *
This poem belongs to the story, Vittana,
an ancient Bard who once walked upon the earth.
The Goddess of the Earth
One day I met
The Goddess of the Earth.
She said to me,
“Your desires for love are the same as my dreams—
To have children who see through the eyes of the stars
Who fuse in their hearts all opposites,
The constellations themselves into one Song of Love.
By the power of desires and dreams
By the power of My own being
By the power of earth, air, fire, and water
Who are also my children—
"Nothing shall bind nor limit your voice
Neither in the heavens above, upon the earth, nor beneath.
You shall cross over all boundaries
So that others may hear as you hear
The Songs the universe sings.
"And one day during your journey
I will give you another as your lover
That you may taste my own delight and surprise
(Which I felt that day
Your art found its way
Into the secret chambers of my heart).
She will say to you these words,
'I will die and be reborn for you,'
Even as many times you yourself have died
And been reborn listening to sing My Songs."
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*       *       *
Tibetan Buddhists have elaborate paintings or Yidams of various beings who are embodiments of the enlightened mind.  I, however, often run into spirits who disguise themselves as human beings.  This poem expresses the inner spirit of a woman I know.
The Goddess of Compassion
She meets me within a dream
She says,
“Whatever you desire I will give
I will yield to you all that I am
I am more willing than night
To shine with the stars’ light
I am more ready than Dawn
To wake you and enfold you in my arms.”
And then
Like breath she slips inside my body
Like mead she wets my lips and wanders down my tongue.
She says,
“For passion I will be a circle of fire
With my heart at the center
For longing I will be a cool mountain stream
Singing to you of innocent and purity
And in your search for another
I will be the one who finds you, touches you,
And takes away your pain.
"Kiss my lips
Arouse me
Take me to a mountain cliff
I will fall into your hunger.
 Be the abyss
I will be swallowed by your desire
Sail with me on the ocean
I will sink into your bliss
And like the waves of the sea
I will caress you endlessly.
"Be the candle
I will be the flame
I will light your way through the darkness
Be a silver cup
Contain my feminine essence
I will be the wine
I will dip your blade
Within pure ecstasy
I receive your masculinity
Your electric needs dance
Through the center of my body
I burn, turn, and rise
I revolve, circle, and cry
I enfold your will with my love.
“In my eyes
You see the moonlight on lakes, seas, and streams
You hear the birds singing at dawn
You smell the plum and cherry blossoms
With drops of rain still sprinkling from the leaves
You taste a tangerine.
As your firm body presses my soft belly
And though my embrace is tender, kind, and sweet
My love penetrates you to the depths
Through every cell and fiber of your being
I dissolve your loneliness
Now you know who I am—
"I am the Goddess of Compassion
And this is what I teach:
The body and soul are one circle of love
Erotic delight and sensual ecstasy
Are at the center of the heart
And there is nothing that exists
That is not a part of my bliss."
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*       *       *
This poem belongs to the story, St. Columba.  St. Columba was a Irish bard and also a Christian priest during the sixth century.  For two hundred years, the Celtic Church was autonomous and free of any outside authority which forbade seeking God within.  But such freedom comes with a great price—you have to face the unknown depths within yourself without help or support if you wish to reveal to the world the love which is at the center of your heart.  I wrote this poem while listening to that wonderful violin instrumental at the end of the movie, The Last of the Mohicans.
A Psalm of Praise (To St. Columba)
Who will proclaim
The beauty of the heavens and the earth?
Whose voice will sing
Of our sacred journeys in quest of the Divine?
And who, I ask, will continue forever
Until the heart of God is found?
Oh Lord
The nerves in my body
Are the strings of Your harp
And You do play upon them
My pain is deep
The notes You pluck with your fingers
Lead me through horror and hell
They annihilate my soul
I pass through flames of despair
In absolute terror I cry.
But your fingers play on
They pause not nor hesitate
So skilled are You
You call forth from emptiness and the abyss
From the darkest place that exists
A Song of Bliss
I am reborn through Your Love.
Yet you penetrate further—to the core of my being
Beyond my imagination or power of mind to comprehend
To steal from me all that I am.
You are the Thief whose purpose is Love.
You hold me in the palm of Your hands.
I pass before Your eyes
Naked and alone, abandoned I cry out again
Yet You will not be satisfied
Until you make me part of Your Art of Creation
Lord of the universe
Where is this place you lead me
But the center of Your own heart?
Countless stars whirling in space
Flaming orbs dazzling bright
On countless worlds at dawn
Birds sing in praise of Your Glory
Who can contain such Joy?
And yet You play on
As the sower threads the eye of the needle
You lead me
Through the center of every heart in creation
To show me that light and darkness
Suffering and joy
Separation and reunion
Are the threads of a tapestry
You weave into a Song of Beauty so great
The universe aches
And strives with all its might
To awake, to rise up
To lift up its voice and sing with Your own
I can no longer distinguish pain from Ecstasy
I open my mouth to speak, to cry aloud
But no sound comes forth—
Nothing of myself remains
Only Your Song,
I ask of You, my Creator, only this:
May Your hands never cease
From playing upon these strings
For I awake, I rise up
From ashes, from nothingness
To walk by Your side
Through the dramas and pageantry of Creation
I see through Your eyes
And I, as with others, declare:
All the earth is full of Your Glory.
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*       *       *
This poem was given to me by Vehuiah, the first spirit of the sphere of Mercury.   You see, we were having a discussion about faith and about God’s essence.
Vehuiah—What Is Like Unto God?
What is like unto God?
What breath can express His Presence?
Whose voice can sing His songs?
What created thing reflects His Essence?
What image captures He form?
What priest or sage can measure His mystery?
What prophet or mage can comprehend His plans?
Is their an artist anywhere in the universe,
A sculptor whose hands are so skilled,
He can create beauty like unto the beauty
God creates on a billion billion worlds?
Can the creature ever understand the Creator?
But wait! Lovers are like this—
They anoint each other with their bliss.
Their souls embrace, their innermost essence they taste.
There is nothing they hold back in the giving.
Love is their breath, their voice, their song, and their art.
Their love celebrates and partakes of God’s beauty.
This wonder is at the heart of the universe—
It is a pageantry like no other,
A drama of immense suspense.
Wisdom,  power, and magick play only supporting parts.
I impart faith, conviction, and the perfection of will
So divine love might enter the earth.
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*       *       *
 Ebvep is one of the spirits of the lunar sphere.
For Ebvep
She said to me,
I want to fill your will inside me
I want your desire to arouse me
I want burn with your yearning until nothing is left
Except the scent of your love
Carried by the winds of my heart.
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*       *       *
Franz Bardon considers Hagiel to be the chief goddess of the sphere of Venus.
I wrote this poem while meditating with her .
My Consort—To Hagiel
My consort is cosmic love
She is so relaxed, light, and free
Kissing her is so easy, so inviting, so enticing
I feel we have never been separate
That nothing else exists
Loving her is so soft, tender, and sweet
When she smiles her eyes reflect laughter
And the silent fires of starlight
Our chests rise and fall as one breath
As one heartbeat pulsing through two bodies
This place within my heart I could never find
Without the feel of her body against mine—
If the sky had no stars
If the sun and moon were dark
If the beauty of the world were suddenly to depart
It would matter not
We could still create the world anew
From the love within our hearts:
The radiance of light blue—the vastness of the sky—
Is the laughter in her eyes
The waters of the earth, the oceans, streams, and lakes,
Just one of her tears creates
My mouth, the sensual touch of my tongue on her breasts
And the mountains, hills, and valleys,
The ravines, the deserts’ thirst for falling rain—
The earth is her body naked, receptive, and nurturing.
I love her. You can see the fire of my desire
In the first light of dawn—
In the rippling edge of emptiness where the stars are born.
When I flex my muscles, when she encircles my will with her love,
Mountains explode,
Magma ascending from the center of the earth turns to stone
That forests might take hold, flourish, and grow
Beneath the light of the moon.
If you could take all of nature and extract from it its beauty
And then drink this elixir and attain immortality
You would still not taste the bliss I taste when I hold her in my arms.
Her passion is within all things
Awakening them to seek and to dream new dreams
Her love is a shoreless sea of ecstasy uniting time and eternity
And I am her waves, her winds,
And the currents flowing through her depths.
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*       *       *
A woman once said to me, “Write me a poem right now without pausing or hesitating.” And so without pausing I wrote her this poem to express the essence of who she is—she is like an incarnation of the Venus spirit named Gomah who is the goddess of all sacred journeys.
Your Soul
You are like clay in the hands of a sculptor,
But who is this sculptor?
This sculptor is the wind whose fingers are in our hair
Whose breath is in our lungs
Who softly penetrates the secret places of the soul
Where fear itself fears to go.
This sculptor is passion: and the clay flows between
His fingers wet, soft, and yielding,
All his mind, heart, and gaze are focused in his touch
Curling, joining, molding,
The clay becomes alive
As it takes form fashioned with such care
The desires of the heart join the image of the eye
With the caress of the hand.
This sculptor is love
I see through Love’s eyes and your eyes both
I see how your soul holds new life in itself
Nurturing it so it may find a way to be born
Darkness itself you turn into a path of beauty
And through Her, the eyes of Love,
The greater love which indwells your soul:
I see that for Her
Life is a sacred journey—
It is not an ordeal
But the Celebration of a Mystery
In Her eyes both winter and spring are joined:
Kindness is there.
And also an invitation to cross over every boundary
For the sake of love.
Her eyes are both Summer and Fall
Which are also in the kiss from Her lips:
She will gladly fulfill every desire
The body, heart, and spirit would know
But also She offers the greatest secret of all:
The knowledge and the pathway to join hearts with another
And on this path, like the essence of Fall,
We let go of who we are
To join with a greater Beauty.
There is art at work in your life,
And this art is beauty, love, and sharing,
A hug from you is like the flowers of Spring
Exploding in tiny volcanic rainbows between my toes
It is like drinking mead among a circle of friends
On a sacred Isle during a cool summer night full of songs.
It is like Fall and Twilight, the goddess who runs her fingers
Through my hair teaching me how to let go, to flow,
To step unafraid into a future unmade
And your hug makes even winter into a friend,
The winter of the soul becomes a time
When the whiteness of snow
And the barren branches standing naked in a cold North wind
Feel nothing but joy as they scream at the top of their lungs—
“I want to be naked and I want to love and to feel pain.”
Yes, you are all the seasons rolled into one.
You are the clay that is willing to allow itself
To be molded by Love.
I love you dear friend,
May we be friends foreve
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*       *       *
Samhuinn, or Halloween, is the time of death and separation.  It is opposite to Beltane—the time of love and joining.  Each season of the year and stage of life has its own purposes to fulfill.  This poem is from the story, St. Columba.
When Death comes
May I greet him with a smile
As an old friend
I know his work, his commission,
I know how he guards zealously the sacred boundaries
Separating the living and the dead
I know these boundaries
I have crossed over them
For love I have died
Entering darkness with no guide
To search for another’s heart
To join in the Celebration
For which the universe was created—
The stars by night are the same
The same sun and moon do shine
But the sea is different
It has no shores
It winds are dreams and visions
Its waves are bliss and ecstasy
Its depths contain Eternity
And I have sailed upon it
My craft rests by the dock
Its sails ready to hoist, to set, to trim
The helm awaits my hand
Soul companions are my shipmates
The fire of stars burning in their eyes
The songs of the constellations
Circle within their smiles
Joy dances in their hearts
But it is not my time to depart.
My hands say,
“These palms still contain seeds of light
To be scattered upon the earth.”
My lips and tongue say,
“We taste the air—
It stirs, it whispers,
It hovers and drifts in restless gusts.
The air is pregnant:
Light and darkness
The turning of the year
The barriers separating all worlds grow faint
The gateways now luminous—
The eye clairvoyant
The ear telepathic
Touch clairsentient.
 The Earth Herself is here
Waiting for Her children,
To hear the Song—
To feel the Fire
To taste the Light
To touch the Joy
To embrace the Love
At the center of our hearts
At the center of the circle
At the center of the universe.”
Listen! Can you hear it?
The sound of galaxies whirling, spinning, and colliding
Sailing on celestial winds?
The wind in the leaves of the trees
The soft rustling
The tender caress
As sweet as any Lover
Her fingers running through your hair?
Who is like my Beloved?
At her touch,
The sun and moon dissolve
Into a brighter light
Day and night join as one
The life animating plant, rock, animal, and tree
Human and Divine being
Returns to its source
To the seed at the center of the heart.
In a dark place
Silence blossoms
Revealing the distances separating and uniting all things—
I hear the Song of the Universe
In a solitude pregnant with love
Distances are overcome
And the stars draw near and greet me
As an old friend
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*       *       *
An Essay--How to Write a Poem

The poetry I write is more a direct description of my experience in meditating than it is anything else.
Some have asked me to explain what it is I do.  One method I use in writing my poems derives from
Eugene Gendlin's method called "focusing."  (See Eugene T. Gendlin's book "Focusing" published by
Bantam Books, 1962).

     There are six steps in Gendlin's method.  1. Put everything off to the side so you can focus on one
feeling or question.  2. Get a direct feeling from your body, an impression you can perceive  in a concrete
manner, which accompanies your feeling or question.  3. Express this feeling specifically in an image, a
phrase, even as a geometric configuration of where the sensations or feelings are in your body.

     4. Go back and forth between steps 2 and 3, that is, check and increase the accuracy of the image or
phrase so that there is a close correlation or "fit" between your body and your conscious representation of
where the sensations or feelings are in your body.    5. Allow now your entire body and soul to open to
what it is you  have identified as "stuck" energy or  feelings which are not flowing freely within yourself.
For example, ask, "What is behind  this or underneath it?"  This allows what is stuck finally to be
accepted and  embraced by all that you are.  6.  Give yourself a chance to process what you have
experienced.  Let it become in some way a part of your life.

      In so far as psychologists are occupied with the needs of the personality, Gendlin, typically, has an
individual ask, "What is keeping me from being happy right now?"  There are a vast array of definitions
for what it is to be happy.  Certainly, it is up to each of us to find for ourselves our own answers.  There
is, however, a strong connection between our body and our feelings.  When we feel full of energy, clear,
and open to what is happening within us, we are on the path of happiness.  The body and feelings have an
immense advantage over the mind when it comes to discovering happiness.  Let us explore an example of
a focusing session.

       An individual might focus and notice a constriction or pain within his or her heart.  Focusing further
to increase the accuracy, the shape and intensity of this feeling becomes more clear--it is then
characterized as a throbbing, even a burning sensation which carries within it a feeling of loss.   The
sensation and the feeling of loss become, then, a "handle" one uses to open up the entire body and soul to
experience this stuck energy.  Total, undivided attention is present along with the empathy which is willing
to enter into and feel all that is there.  And the whole body stands ready to embrace and accept whatever
is discovered.

     Asking, "What is this?"  or "What is beneath this?" allows us to enter into an inner psychic space in
which we are purely attentive and receptive.  New and original perceptions rather than old thoughts and
reactions can then be found. Empathy, love, and concentration are all present at once.  The energy the
psyche has put forth to hold, contain, and to bury these feelings is now no longer needed.  The rigid
barriers within the body are free to dissolve and the energy is free to move, to shape shift and be
transformed--to be integrated into the rest of our psyche rather than being separate and alone.

     In this moment, however, we do not identify with our personality or familiar identity.  No.  If we want
integration, to be more open and clear, we need to identify consciously with the totality of who we are.
To do this, we must be willing to enter the unknown--to embrace that space at the center of our heart
where love encompasses all.  It is from this place that the stuck and trapped energies and tensions within
ourselves dissolve and are then free to flow and move unobstructed.

     Opening to our sensations and feelings, the loss is then discovered, in this case, to be rejection: the
withdrawal of love by others, the lack of acceptance, the way others have attacked rather than tried to
understand who we are.  The inner tension around the heart is then perceived as arising from an attempt
to guard against others' hostility and lack of acceptance.  In this "discovery" or insight, there is no longer a
need to defend oneself.  The acceptance felt toward oneself in this case reaches out to others as well.
The body through opening and flowing with the movement of energy has found another way of relating to
the world.

     The energy, then, “shifts” because the barriers holding it in place are no longer needed.  The greater
resources belonging to the entire psyche are drawn upon.   With this shift and change comes new insight.
And the tense, burning sensation with its feeling of loss is now gone.  There is in its place a feeling of
delight, a sensation like water flowing down a stream.

     Our task in the final step is to allow this insight to become a part of our life.  Without receiving this
insight, it is easy for our more familiar but less dynamic routines, thoughts, and reactions to reassert
themselves.  In this case, receiving this insight becomes a matter of holding the others in our hearts with
the same love and acceptance we have discovered we can offer to our self.

     The most significant difference between what I do and what Gendlin does is that in step 5, in opening
to the energy or feeling, I use and flow into the energies of nature as the images in my poems testify.  I
also, as a spheric magician, draw freely from the vast array of spirits Franz Bardon mentions in his book,
"The Practice of Magical Evocation. "This helps amplify my ability to explore and animate my
impressions.  And it enables tensions within me which are much more collective, universal, or cosmic than
personal to be released and transformed.

     As a psychologist, Gendlin's prime directive is to help others to adapt and to be successful in the social
world as it already exists. His emphasis is on the happiness and integration of the personality.  A bardic
magician like myself has a different objective--it is to discover spiritual treasures and bear them back to
our world, in other words, to capture in poems the beauty of the universe.

     My intent is not to adapt to but to comprehend and then to transform the world according to a vision.
Though I use Gendlin's method, I have modified it so that it is now a wand in the hands of a magician.  I
chart, then, not just the integration of the personality, but the integration of the collective, global, and
cosmic psyche in my meditations.

     The image or phrase I use as a "handle" on the energy I am experiencing within my body turns into
part of the poem I write.  In the poem, I pass into a void.  I move beyond the boundaries of the world in
quest of the harmony and beauty I seek.  The entire poem, then, is a record of this journey I have
followed on paths of soul and spirit.

     To avoid excessive explanations, I will begin writing a poem and talk about it as it unfolds.  I am
listening to a song by Karen Matheson from the soundtrack of the movie Rob Roy.  The song is Ailein
Duinn.  This song is in another language and though I do not have a translation, I notice there is
something in Karen's voice which I wish to explore--Karen sings from her heart and in her heart there is a
love which encompasses vast distances and places of isolation.  She accomplishes something as she sings
which I have not learned to do within myself—to unite sorrow, loss, and loneliness with beauty.

     The heart has this power--to hold all of our experiences in life within a place where stillness and love
are joined.  I want to enter this place, to join with this source, that this light might shine within myself as
well.  This will not be easy for me. One of the qualities of love is that it seeks to flow through the very
core of another's being.  The oneness offered is immense.

     But this flow is not without a price.  In its quest for intimacy and oneness, this love inevitably enters
every sealed room where frightening secrets have been hidden away, every chamber where horrors and
terrors have been bound and stowed--the flow of love breaks all barriers down.  Love creates a magical
circle.  It weaves together all that is within the life and experience of both individuals.  For this love
(which I perceive as I listen to Karen's voice) to flow within myself, I must pass through the darkness that
exists within me.

     Listening to Karen's singing, I open myself completely as a bardic magician.  I become the silence
which carries the notes of her voice.  I become the darkness willing to allow the light and all the images
within her mind to shine forth.  I bear the tension her heart embraces.  I am the willingness that feels what
she is feelings.  I am the stillness so complete her entire being--without diminishing, without a trace of my
desires and needs—is allowed to appear here.  I am the mirror willing to reflect without distortion her soul
and her spirit within myself.

     And yet, though the mirror is empty, it also seeks to hear what her voice has to say to me personally.
The tradition of the troubadour asserts that union with God or Goddess can not be attained, can not be
experienced in full, until it is first seen and experienced through the heart of another.  There is a path of
transformation her voice leads me upon.  This path leads both through her and through myself.  Upon this
path we are not separate.      This is a path of love and upon it there are moments when all that exists is
union, oneness, and bliss.

     This is not a wish or a fabrication, for love in its essence contains this mystery--only in love can we
undergo transformation without knowing where were are going or who it is we are becoming.  Love offers
us this union that we might find and enter the sacred gate leading to the enlightenment of the world.

      Listening to Karen's voice, my body is now gone.  The surrounding world is no longer here.  I would
listen in this moment so completely that my mind is like the sky, my feelings the sea, and my body as
quiet and patient as the mountain.

     My listening becomes the mirror so clear that her love, heart, and soul can appear within it not just as
an image or representation seen at a distance.  I allow the magic in her voice and song to create in me the
very source of life inspiring her. The feelings and energy within her song now begin to appear within me.
They are able to move freely drawing upon all that I am and all that I have ever experienced.

     In this listening space, her heart is now free to speak directly to my own.  This is communication from
one heart to another heart.  This is a dialogue between two souls involving our entire being.

      In her voice I find a love so pure I can feel it now flowing around my fingertips--a cool wind flows in
the evening before the moon rises. The air is liquid.  It brushes through my hair.  Standing behind me, I
feel her hands on my shoulders.   I am protected by her love, sheltered by her heart.  She offers me her
own heart and soul that I might know my own better--again, this is not my wish or hope.  This power to
join and offer support is precisely the essence of her own soul which she is sharing in her song.

     The wounds within myself, the pain and anguish, they are strings upon a lute and she reaches to touch
them with hands of compassion and healing.  Her song and her heart from which it arises walk with me
right now by my side through the darkest places of my lie--places I can see,  I can visit easily, but which I
have not been able to share with anyone else.  I feel her love as an actual energy moving through me.

     As I listen to her voice I sense the reason that this healing power is within her is that she is willing to
become the Earth.  Within her eyes, within her heart, she too would bear, endure, and nourish all so they
may come forth in their own time, in their own way, and be reborn, transforming and attaining all that
they were ever meant to be.  I feel that grace, that acceptance, that love within her heart as her voice
speaks to me.

     With Karen's presence and heart clearly here with me, as liquid energy streaming through my body, I
visit again those places in my life where I was indeed lost and lonely--so lonely I felt I had died, or that
awakening within a dream, I turned and looked around myself and saw a million broken hearts silent and
unable to speak.  But Karen remains by my side as I enter this dark place.

     Still, this is not easy to do.  In this moment, as I hold a cassette player in my hand, my thumb hesitates
to push the play button and again listen to her song.  The pain is overwhelming.  It washes through my
body like an undertow striving to tear apart my identity and carry it off.  The pain is so total it feels that in
entering it there is no way out. The pain weighs me down.

     There is a place of lostness within me so vast it is like a dream from which part of myself has never
awakened.  I hesitate to enter lest even more be taken away from me than before.  But tracing the images
I am actually seeing in this moment, I write these words to the poem having spent many years walking
alone through deserts,  forests, and mountainsides:

Does the mountain stream cry
As its source--the clouds—
Drift off into other skies?
Do its falls weep in sorrow and loss?
Does it pause silently in its pools
Its depths dreaming of endless loneliness before flowing on?
If my answer is "No,”
Can I persuade my heart otherwise?
Your voice walks beside me
Through these mountains, deserts, and forests
Where, though breathing, seeing, and dreaming,
I feel I have died
Because love has left my life behind.


Clearly, I can enter, as in a walking dream, these moments of immense tension which I have experienced
before.  I am there now.  I have invaded the past.  I am who I once was.  But to be here is to experience
a numbness which can not feel, a sorrow which does not release.

     But Karen's voice is here with me also.  She says to me, "You can feel.  It does release.  I am able to
experience here and now all that you are going through.  You are within my heart and my love flows
through your soul."

      I feel the mountain pools and the streams again.  I am one with them.  And I feel the clouds moving
on just as love having propelled me forward on my path of life then turned away from me and left me
alone.  But she is within the pools and the streams as well.  Karen's voice, like a magician's, evokes within
me the love which exists within this very moment within her heart.

     And so in my body where I feel the tension, the numbness, the pain, I feel her energy flowing also
through me.  Her energy has become my own.  I could sit here for years by myself doing focusing and
still this energy would never release.  But in listening carefully I have allowed the heart of another to
infuse my own heart with new life even amid this wilderness.  And so I write:

But your voice reshapes my life
In your song I hear you say,
“This pool you see
It dreams of clouds and seas
But its still waters reflect more—
The stars dwelling in the vast expanse of space
Their songs of Joy take eons of time
Each others’ hearts of find
And yet they are all joined as one
As your heart and mine
Within this moment
Within this poem
Flow as one stream of love.
The child understands not the words
Understands not the reasons for its suffering
But the mother is there to comfort
She holds him within her arms
In my waters cool and deep
Rest and sleep
Let go
Be released
And yet expand also—


"There are places within us which are so vast, so empty of human companionship, that to enter them is to
risk losing our understanding of who we are.  But these places as well are part of an even richer and more
wonderful world--they are a part of the Soul of the Earth.  Here are found all the treasures of spirit the
human race has ever known and will ever discover.

     Karen, with her heart of gold, leads me on paths through this wilderness of the soul.  I am no longer
within what is called the collective unconscious.  I am not supported by the wisdom of any culture on
earth.  I have entered the domain of what is better called the global or cosmic unconscious.    Here water
itself testifies to that aspect of Divinity which it embodies--universal and comic love.  Because the
magnetic powers within Karen's heart reflect and carry the Soul of the Earth itself, I am safe traveling
here.  The desolation I once faced but could not bear, she has transformed through the willingness of her
heart to flow through my own with her love.  She has given voice to the Life which infuses us all.

     There are  places of the spirit we may not enter without another by our side.  There are
transformations we can not undergo unless another is there to guide us.  I assert that the feminine soul has
the power within it to bear and give birth to any destiny human or divine.  This is my experience as a
bard.  This is why I am so attentive to the treasures found within the hearts of women.  To the  treasures
within the heart of this women I yield: I flow and let go and, entering into the mysteries of water itself and
the heart of nature, I write:


Sinking down into your heart, your love
I am now the underground stream
Gently weaving through the caverns beneath the ground
And I am curtains of rain sailing upon the wind
I am the sea and the iceberg drifting
The whale’s song echoes through my body
As other whales listen a thousand miles distant
I am the mist embracing the forest with her arms
I am the grape on the vine
As it ripens
As it ferments into wine
Capturing the lightning with its song
Joining earth and sky
The taste of the grape
Sings of the treasure I have found within your heart:
In the coldest, darkest place of emptiness Though invisible and unknown A fiery light still shines A heart still celebrates the Love Binding the universe with its might—
From your heart to mine
In this moment
This flame is passed,
And so I have come to see
The stream, the falls, the pool and its dreams Fear not loss nor emptiness Nor the loneliness where the soul dissolves But flow as part of  a Sea Whose Song is Infinite Love.

It is neither caprice nor exaggeration when I write the words, "Infinite Love."  Karen's heart reflects the
Beauty of the universe even as the Soul of  the Earth reflects within itself the spirit of the sun, moon, and
stars.  I am now in the center of Karen's heart.  I am one with the Source inspiring her.  I move as spirit
and the spirit indwelling her fills me with its love.

     This joining of spirits, this sharing from heart to heart, is not a method unknown to our world or in any
way inappropriate.  It is not just troubadours and bards who imagine such things.  In any serious spiritual
anthropology, shaktipat, guru yoga, and the transference of power from heart to heart, are the essence of
the teachings made real.  Part of Tibetan Buddhism, e.g., in its method of initiation, is to enter and
experience the heart of the Dalai Lama.  This is done in fact as part of the visualizations which are used
with a guru in many tantras.

     Just for a moment, if you feel free, come with me.  Visualize the Dalai Lama standing in front of you.
See his smile.  Look into his eyes. This is not so difficult.  You can imagine a friend you are close to.  If
you visualize him or her right now in front of you and listen to words he or she might speak, you may be
able to "feel" something of the other's presence entering you, flowing through your body.  This is the
same thing.

     For a moment, become a dot of white light and flow into the heart of the Dalai Lama.  Let the entire
universe for a moment be precisely what you feel and sense within his heart.  Here is this moment is a sea
of compassion which is infinite.  His heart contains worlds upon worlds all enfolded by the light of the
enlightened mind which he shares freely with others.

     This field of energy of his heart is also like wind and water when they are gentle and kind and
nourishing.  It is an open expanse which is inexhaustible.  It is a sea of time where the mind discovers
itself to be a mirror clear, open, and luminous, a mirror whose very nature is compassion.

     It is no wonder, then, that this same man repeats again and again, "As long as suffering remains to
sentient beings, I will remain to serve," or, "My only religion is kindness."  These words epitomize the
essence of a sea of energy which his heart embraces.  These words are spoken by one who would lay the
ground work for establishing on earth a genuine cosmic religion.

     Karen's heart also touches on the universal  and cosmic.  Her magnetism is that of Venus: the
willingness to combine and join what is separate so that healing and beauty may be found, so that love
may be fulfilled.  Listening to her voice singing Aileen Duinn, becoming the space where the light of her
soul can shine, I have entered a sea whose essence is Infinite Love.

     In summary, when I listen to another or to a spirit for that matter, I listen with my entire being.  When
I follow a feeling, like Orion in the sky, I am the eternal hunter.  I move across all boundaries.  I
overcome all barriers.  Like others before me, I am a servant who is guided by the One Light which holds
the universe within its heart.

     But put more simply, I enter a waking dream.  In this dream, I taste, feel, perceive, hear, and touch
the energies which arise within the stillness of my heart.  I allow them to appear, to use all of my life as
the strings of a lute which they are free to take and play any song upon of their own choosing.

     Willing to be the earth and the sky, the seas, the volcano and the lightning, I become the source which
inspires the other's being so that I too might become transformed, so that the paths of the spirit might be
opened and shared with others.

     Again, this is what bardic magicians do:  we find treasures of soul and spirit and share them with the
world.  Our meditation is the open space of the heart which we never cease exploring.  Our poem or song
is a record of our journey, of what we have been permitted to bring back and share with the world.  But
the poem is more than this.  As is my experience when I listen to Karen singing, the poem/song is a
magical gate.  The poem is a sigil drawn not with lines but with metaphors which evoke a spiritual

     The poem is the blood of Divinity called forth by the bard's voice and carried by the wings of spirit.  It
is the flame moving free and without obstruction from one heart to another heart.  The poem is a joining,
a oneness of love creating that moment in which God and Goddess reach for and touch each other within
our hearts.

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