The Flames

Geburah Shalom

The whole world is turning Red.  Red with Blood.  Red with Anger.  Red with Hate.  Even my Tears are turning Red.

I can’t stand it any longer.  But there is no way out, if I want to complete this spin on the Wheel of Karma in vain hope that my efforts will be rewarded in the Lands Beyond the Veil, then I shall endure till the end.  Perdurabo.   Isn’t that what….?

So I find myself on the road which the Frtr before me took, almost as if knowingly both of us understood the manner in which this Path would crush and deform us, yet still the ultimate prize is too tempting to forego.  Even Alan knows this.  Behold  I was once as White as snow and now I am Scarlet and Delirious.  Fraters’ next Crimson Priestess, an idol of an Eon born of Holy Fire and Sulphur.

I shall not give in to the rage that threatens to suffocate me with a fiercer passion than any transient encounter could ever surrender.  It will pervert and warp me, and still I shall endure.

I can hear the Horses howling as the time of reckoning draws nearer.  Every man, woman and child will have to account for thine own regrets; my regret is that I might be too late to stop the resurrection of the flames from within.

‘YOU are your own judge and jury, within YOU dwells the ultimate Abyss.  Tame yourself and Know Thy Self.  If you succeed you will not need to Die any longer, intact and whole you will extend beyond this frail veil of mortality and sorrow’.

And so I endure.  And so Today is Geburah and Hod follows and leads the way.  Mercy after that, submerging into Love.  Shall I tame these passions too? 

‘Why of course you shall!! You Must!! The prize is invaluable, the Crown is within reach’.

I close my eyes and stretch, this is all too much.  To concentrate the Universal Principles of Order and Chaos into 42 possible states of dynamics and force is just Lunacy, best off done on a Monday.

Only Man

Only man can fall from God

Only man.

No animal, no beast nor creeping thing

no cobra nor hyaena nor scorpion nor hideous white ant

can slip entirely through the fingers of the hands of god

into the abyss of self-knowledge,

knowledge of the self-apart-from-god.

For the knowledge of the self-apart-from-God

is an abyss down which the soul can slip

writhing and twisting in all the revolutions

of the unfinished plunge

of self-awareness, now apart from God, falling

fathomless, fathomless, self-consciousness wriggling

writhing deeper and deeper in all the minutiae of self-knowledge,

downards, exhaustive,

yet never, never coming to the bottom, for there is no bottom;

zigzagging down like the fizzle from a finished rocket

the frizzling falling fire that cannot go out, dropping wearily,

neither can it reach the depth

for the depth is bottomless,

so it wriggles its way even further down, further down

at last in sheer horror of not being able to leave of

knowing itself, knowing itself apart from God, falling.

(D.H.Lawrence from Last Poems, 1932)

April becomes July, August races to October, time flows like the entire Universe, As above so below, and before you know it its mid November and the stars are out.  

The streets are cold and empty as I gaze above and make out distant scintillating constellations, Ursa Minor on a Dragon ride, Orion aims for the Swan, the Pleiades pulse to a distant starbeat and I am still here watching the Cosmos twirl and fall through the Abyss.

All in my head now, spheres of light, bubbles of space invite me to know them as I hasten to make my way to the Courtyard of The King of Crown, who faces away as I fall at His feet mumbling old dusty words meant to reach Him; no matter how long I walk or crawl or run, He is always too far to hear me.

‘Chesed’ I sing ceaselessly ‘Chesed, Mercy..Father why do you turn away?’, but the quiet is deafening as my words fall like the last leaves of Autumn on a ground that is all ice and pain.

I am not in pain though, the pain I speak of is that of the Kingdom annihilating itself and no matter how hard I try to hold it together I know that it too must give over to surrender, but still I continue to beseech for Mercy.

I lift my right hand to catch His attention, and my left  hand also goes up of its own accord, one gives one takes, there can never be anything in between.  I stomp my feet, one then the other, Left then Right, and in the star dust a Path is formed.  I follow it and although it leads me away from the King’s Chambers I am getting closer to the Crown.  

I march toward the Light only to realise it is Luna, blazing with the intensity of 432 Suns; the cold scars me. I look behind to find the King only to realise He is ahead once more, He is the White in the Light, shining like a Black Sun, an all consuming Black Hole, spitting out the future, pulverising information and experience, like a maid grinds maize for the loaf.

Chaos eventually condenses to structures of Order, Pillars of the Cosmos holding the Heavens high.  Do you see time folding now, folding into an infinite point?  Its alright, its just the beginning, Daath is just the beginning, in order for us to inherit the Heavens we must first leave our dust on this Earth.

And damnit always, ALWAYS it’s the same, here there is no ‘Mercy’ or ‘Passion’ or ‘Pain’, here is just the personal relationship we have with the Cosmos, our Mother and our Father, here is just creation principle and nothing else, and the Black Sun Continues to Shine.