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J Nightingale Jul 2019
I am the shimmering angel within the deep abyss
But whoever would sin against you
I shall smite the enemies for they are the demons within the abyss
They shall burn with such divine light
For the blinding light comes from within
The only power in the world that can stop these demons. Love.

Love is as sacred as god
Love is what makes us run....what drives us
This light shall rage rampant on these ungodly creatures
And so shall these demons be banished from this godly realm
And cleansed of their sins
This is the beauty of love.

Love inspires bravery, heroism for the ones they love
Love hurts as deep as the abyss
But with love comes hope
And hope will brighten the day for all
And so shall the light be freed from the entangling darkness.
My grandson Alex said something very profound and intriguing after his graduation ceremony.

I was complaining about how thin my hair had become and blamed it all on growing old. Alex looked at me with quizzical eyes partially covered by a mop of black sheepdog hair and declared,
"Well, Grandma you are an old lady."
I gave him a piercing look and said,
"True, but, remember this: The Soul is Eternal."

In that moment, my 14 year old grandson said that I reminded him of an old lady living in an off-the-beaten road shack. As I listened to him and the evocative images he spun I took the liberty of embellishing his description:

"Hidden by a dense patch of wild crafted herbs, a hint of mint, diamond needles darning their way around the bucolic scenery, a peculiar little hut comes into view.

The round oculus amethyst windows appear as portholed eyes to another world. If you pause and listen keenly you can distinctly hear the hum of otherworldly chants echoing from its eaves. Indeed, everything about this strange occult cottage exudes magical charm, you'd think it was inhabited by a priestess or something of that nature.

Slowly, I open the creaking door, puffs of rose moss incense and pooja camphor burn in small brass pots. Countless multi colored bottles, all different shapes and sizes, antique knick knacks, curiosities crowd the musty shelves. And a soft, rainbow mist floats through the room. This enigmatic Shack oozes wisdom......My Granny, her hair thinning, bits of silver creating a halo of stars, welcomes me. She gazes at me with a wise, weathered elderly smile while applying a red *** *** dot on my third eye and says:

"You know Alex the Soul is Ageless."
Ken Pepiton Jun 2019
Remember?
The first secret no one knew, but me and you?

Was it secret from Daddy or Mommy?
from boys, or from girls, or the rest of the world?

Did we agree to lie to keep the secret?
Is that how it got sacred?

Do you recall what that secret is?
Is there some rite we must redo?

I look around and think, if life were the secret,
it is leaking.
And I seem to have forgotten what parts were sacred
and what parts are not.

Are you still here? Is this sacred still?

Our secret place, quiet place,
where peace
seeps beneath a sludge of lies,
under which
the hidden source of all we ever hoped
would never
be exposed, lay in secret innocense,
pure as a child's promise,

more precious for its being hidden all these years.

A seed, you said we'd see fruit from
one day.

Wait and see, I heard you say.

But I am blind, or this is night.
Hmmm, wandering through old I don't knows, I think this ...
Gourav R Dwivedi Jun 2019
Wo chhupkar hame dekhte hai, aur hum Nazare chura lete hai. :)
#ftont
The Precursor’s Psalms
Book Two
Chapters VI- X: Ragnarök

A sacred parcel to the soul who looks to ―raptured firmaments for their salvific benison. Se'lah.

VI: The Paean of Lovelight (The Paean of Lovelit Life)

1 Every particle in the soil of my epidermis roves for its emanation,
Its musicality, vibrating in pulsing fuchsia shockwaves,
This melodic energy is the Paean of Lovelit Life.
2 It reverberates the remittance in reminiscence;
yes, the Circle of Life breathes through the conduit,
it peregrinates
The ephemerality, even, the eternity in all entity.
(For in us exist dichotomies)

3 In a moment of self-revelation
I know naught but the vagary of the self;
still, the pain remains,
In the benighted truth of epiphany;
4 Yes, even,
Upon the Visage of Creation
All existence groans in groping
For its Nirvanic Pulse, ―like a wraith.

5 Finding meaning in all that I am,
all that I see, all there will be, and all that is,
I understand the fallacy in knowing, the bane in consciousness:
6 In an instant, one must forget

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all they have learned, all they feel, all they sense,
in the diminution of a moment
lest the soul relinquish that which does seamlessly transmit itself through
The Streams of Tempus Fugit.

VII: The Virescent Masquerade

1 Forsake all sorrows of the morrow, for
Beneath the Masquerader’s Virescently Butterfly-Winged Mask, there is a beckoning;
2 O, even amidst foible for which you long to be assoiled, excogitations do roil;
A tremulous heart: eventualities do saunter past, present,
future, and in communing you examine the finitude & the frailty
(Will their Exodus, my Exodus,
Come before I am ready?)
Of those in the Land of the Living.

VIII: Hierarchy of Sacrality

1 Wisdom
Is a cosmos,
2 Love,
―Invictus Dei,
3 Power,
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis,
4 Justizia,
Universal Scales through which Edicts of the Cosmogonist unfurl.

IX: Vagrant Story

1 Profundities lie in our vagrancies,
And in these there lie Faiths;
The faithful hunger for
―Virtue
For through these, we find a Savior.  

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2 Our Deiform-Apotheosis is ordained by of the Arbiter of Fates,
3 He Is Our Nexus to Transcendence,
The Empyrean whom carnal perdition hast braved


X: Nelumbo Nucifera (Sacred Lotus)

1 ―O, Jah,
The Sovereign of Songbirds,
Sing in the Key of Elysium,
The Requiem of Our Swansong;
2 Beseech the Earthen Womb
Of the Terraqueous Mother
To conceive us anew that
We partake of an elemental legacy.

3 O, then
Might we re-alight,
Upon an aforetime wearied land,
―Nelumbo Nucifera: The Impregnable Sacred Lotus
4 Whose aegis’d petals through
Dusk, Dawn, Midday, Twilight, and Eve
Might effloresce
In the Aeonic Light of The Empyrean One.

(Se’lah).

Written on
Monday
May 20th, 2019

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The Book of 1st John
Chapter 3,
Verses 18 -24

(Verse 18)

“Little children, we should love, not in word or with the tongue, but in deed and truth.”

(Verse 19)

“By this we will know that we originate with the truth, and we will assure our hearts before him”

(Verse 20)

“regarding whatever our hearts may condemn us in, because God is greater than our hearts and knows all things.”

(Verse 21)

“Beloved ones, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have freeness of speech toward God;”

(Verse 22)

“and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we are observing his commandments and doing what is pleasing in his eyes.”

(Verse 23)

“Indeed, this is his commandment: that we have faith in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he gave us a commandment.”

(Verse 24)

“Moreover, the one who observes his commandments remains in union with him, and he in union with such one. And by the spirit that he gave us, we know that he remains in union with us."

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Hearken unto
the
Resplendent Sol,

The Twilight draweth nigh,
Whence erupts from Sundered skies
Arcadia
In
Aeonic Light

Let ye soul
Transcend
By
The Great Apothecary;
His Panacea of Healing Love.

Though
I am a Loveless
Blight, worn, of Earthly Denizens,
I bid you
Immortal heartsease.

Borne of the Father:
Who
forms
all
things.

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Sired by the Son:
Who
Conceives
All
Truth.

Begotten by the Spirit:
That
Burgeons in
(our)
―dreams.

The Grand Creator's
Magnum Opera:
Loom
Within
All of us.


Excelsior Forevermore,


Sanders Maurice Foulke III.

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I'm really trying
to grow old gracefully
People say things to me like,
"Getting old *****"
and
"Growing old ain't for sissies"

I look at the stately, elderly pin oak
in my backyard
strong, stout, knotty brown trunk
weathering Florida hurricanes
and lightning zaps
willowy, winding branches,
leafy emerald arms ever embracing us with
the O2 kisses we need to survive

Dashing Sir Oak tree
Playful, Surfer Palm
Lovely Magnolia
I'll grow old with you...

Gracefully
(Dedicated to our dear bhakti friend and kindred spirit
Catherine Jansen)

Catherine dances
around the cremation grounds
with the Nagi, Sadhus of Lord Shiva
skulls and snakes dangling from
their fearsome necks

Her unique eye is able to
behold beauty in the
dreadful and sublime

Cat's heart belongs to Banaras
also known as Varanasi, Kashi
City of Temples and Light
to die in Banaras is considered auspicious
and augers salvation

With Love and Compassion of the
Divine Mother
Catherine showers happy gifts
on orphaned street children
Clutching Barbie dolls and flashing
brand new dental smiles
they dance with her along the Ganges

Catherine dances with an all seeing camera
in her hands
Zooming in
and
Zooming out
of the sacred, human, transcendental experience
Kindness is natural to
our nature, in fact it's a
Natural Law

The Dalai Lama says:
"Kindness is my religion"

We are not so gruff and tuff
as we think and act

Our heart melts into itself
with every random act of Kindness
every warmly kindled smile

We feel an instinctive, innate kinship
akin to kindness
because we sense that
kindness begets kindness
Love bugs crazy in love
are everywhere
dozens of tiny ebony stars
cover the nebula white rose bush
glowing at the corner of our house

Millions of miniature helicopters, blimps
polka dot the heavens
hanging out on street corners, in yards, lawn chairs
honeymooning on warm, fragrant vernal breezes

One woman in Walmart parking lot
squealed, exasperated,
"Oh no! they are in my hair and car!"
vigorously fanning them away with
her Zanzibar scarf

Love bugs literally living, loving, dying
in their mad, mating frenzy
dance obliviously around
Spring's merry maypole

Love bugs drift past
David and I standing in the doorway
two lil' love bugs
kissing
"nose to nose
toes to toes"
as only true
Love Bugs do
Your golden sillhouette
dances towards me
illuminating
the window sill with
brilliant footsteps
...One Golden Kiss...
Dispels
the shadows and cobwebs
gathering in the corners
of my mind...
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