Love alone

Extract from ‘Hymn of Love’

“Love redeemeth, Love lifteth up, Love enlighteneth, Love advanceth Soules.
Verilie Love is doubly blessed, for she enricheth both giver and receiver.

And if any creature whom thou lovest suffereth death and departeth from thee:
Fain wouldst thou give of thine Hearte’s Blood…

Behold, Love is a ransome and the teares thereof are prayeres. Yea, thy love shall enfold the Soule which thou lovest. Thy prayeres shall lift him up and thy teares shall encompass his steppes. Thy love shall be to him as Light shining upon the upward Waye.

And the Angels of God shall say unto him, ‘O happie Soule, that art so well beloved; that art made strong with all these teares and sighs. O little Soule, thou art mighty if a child of God love thee. Thou art possessed of great riches.’

For every cry is a prayere and all prayere is Power.
For in the eyes of Love, there is nothing little nor unworthy of Prayere.”

[Anna (Bonus) Kingsford, Clothed With The Sun]

**** *** ** *

When the worst of us takes the best of us,
Let not the bright embodiment of Hope be lost
But pour the Light of Love into the void,
That Humanity may rise to honour Life.

🌹

#WeStandTogether

Trick of the Light

Light isn’t all soft love and fluff.
It also pierces, sears and blinds,
To better find the darkest stuff,
The sharper to define.

When fear and hope and wrong and right
Turn inside out, it brokers bright
And what is stirred is why it fights
To air that which it brings to Light.

It shines with omnifarious gaze
That doesn’t favour where it bides
And draws reflection to its rays
From what begins inside.

Light isn’t only safe and kind.
Its ruthless microscopic eye
Is fixed to game the heart and mind
Of what it seeks to purify.

Shadow-shaker, mischief-maker:
Structured play, its grey delight.
Teaser, tempter, teacher, faker:
Doubt and faith give way to sight.

Silver linings; golden threads;
Black light; white night, sharp and hazy.
Tricksy slick to honest wed:
It’s madness but it isn’t crazy.

Who killed Democracy?

In the beginning is the end.

A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
.’ ~ William Blake

~*~

Who killed Democracy?
We, sighed the People,
With our blind eye,
We killed Democracy.
Who saw it die?
I, replied Everyone,
By complacent idling,
I saw it die.
Who bought its blood?
Us, cried the corporations,
With our disregard for nation,
We bought its blood.
Who’ll make its shroud?
We, sang the rich and proud,
With our crony vows,
We’ll make its shroud.
Who’ll dig its grave?
Us, say the governments,
With disempowerment,
We’ll dig its grave.
Who’ll toll the bell?
They, knelling in extremis,
Visioning hell,
They’ll toll the bell.
Who’ll be chief mourner?
We, cried all,
With our heart and soul,
We’ll chiefly mourn.
And the World fell a-sobbing
And a-sighing for a sacrifice
Relying on its hope to be reborn.

*~*~*

[Cock Robin – origin and meaning]

⚡️🌹⚡️

Atonement
A moment
At onement

In the end is the beginning. It is begun.

Forehindsight

All of human history slaps us in the face. Screams

look at me! Witness: I did not end. I am born again and again to grow and shed infinite skins. Potential does not die but can be bound by the drawing of a line.

You, who crossed a thousand Rubicons of shame and hope, for love of my gifts: built walls and prayed for unicorns; slew dragons and mended fences.

The sum of all human consciousness is here, now. Who can contain its conscience? Where shall it be comprehended?

Witness. Else, why are you?

Every age knows fools and visionaries. Filter your vicarious indulgences but all is revealed, eventually. Each, to their unspeakable acts and heroic deeds, be true. By your own lines, rise or fall.

base-mood

What if arithmetic were underpinned by the base-mood system:
if its virtues were no more than the sum of
popular feelings, mischievous algorithms and smoke-filled echo chambers?

First Light

Each human incarnation sees
The evolution of the Soul,
Whose manifestations are,
In and of each Self,
A form absorbing
All that has been and all that is
And a force propelling
That which is to be,
In constant elevation of the Cosmos
And unto Eternity;
Each Soul, the Chariot of God.

 
Bright hope of Imbolc be with you 🕯 xXx