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The Tower

She built a Tower

Of someone with no needs

Of someone with no voice

Of someone with clouds and confusion

Keeping her wandering and lost

Of someone, who simply

Wasn’t there

The Tower kept her doubting

Of what she felt, what she saw, what she heard

Echoes and wraiths chanting

You can’t really think that you know

You can’t really think that you need

You can’t really think that you want

You can’t really think

That you’re real

This Tower shamed her inkling, calling it projection

This Tower shamed her receptivity, calling it emptiness

This Tower shamed her process

Of feeling the way through, a body’s knowing, calling it lack of vision

This Tower shamed her power of presence,

The release of personal desire and drive, calling it

Impotence

Now somehow, the bricks, they started to crumble

Likely through diligent mirrors, hard-working gnawers

And the uncontrollable effectiveness

Of the electric bolt blowing

The top of her pretty Tower

All those perfect bricks

Crumbling

Tumbling

Falling

Down

Falling

No stranger to the process was she

In fact she’d stayed in successive destructions

Watching her flesh dissolve along with the skin of her worlds

This time, however

She realized she did not want to vanish

This time

She realized she could jump

And watch the massive dismemberment

Of a Tower needed no more

She could watch it, standing

On loamy, fresh earth

Planting seeds with the electric fertility

Reveling in the rumbling

Shaking through her tissues

Allowing herself to be

As it all

Came crashing

Down

Standing there

At the burning edges of her old realities

Looking down and onto a great mystery

A great risk

Not knowing

Never knowing

If she’d survive the fall

This time, however

She knew it had to be different

And stepping off the dissolving parapet

She dove

Laughing

Finally laughing

From her Tower

Of no more

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Initiation

It begins and It ends

With Love

Wide-eyed babe

Born into arms of darkness

Swimming

Heart’s beaming anchor

Finds no ground

Born into the seven tongues

Whispering, snickering

Sneering and wiping

The Love, the Love

It goes

She falls

She forgets, spiraling

Until one day The Hermit

Wolfen by side

Meets her in the Night

Deep in the darkness

His lantern revives

Floating, floating

Absorbing, absorbing

Drinking in the light

Suddenly

Death comes

And its great scythian teachings

Prancing in with the Tower

Demolishing the bud

Of re-memberance

Of re-membrance

Of Love

Hanging by threads

She passes Death’s teachings

Through the pillars and pylons

She rides

Riding with Emperor

Structuring and building

A life anew

The scent of Love flapping

In wake of pointed spear

Sure that she’d survived it

Sure that she’d found plateau

The hunger, the hunger

For Love, it returned

Scanning and seeking

Amongst her fertile kingdom

She could not find it

Here, amongst the green

It was gone

And as if responding

To growing emanations of despair

The Magician

The Shaman

Appeared

Schooling her again

Re-membering her

With Love

On the wings of a dream

She travelled to far off lands

Following the traces

Following the symbols

Following the drum

Becoming shining babe-like Fool

Wandering

And again

Invisible worlds

Of terror

Shook her hand

Filled her core

Infusing the crevices

With crazed imaginings

Shadow overloading

Feeling into pain

Of Paradise

Smiling eyes feared her

Drunken revelries urged her sleep

Mind murky

She stumbled

Death came to her again

Knocking, grinning, asking

This time? This time?

Do you have enough

For Love in the Darkness?

Sleep so easy

Disappearance a gift

This time?

Somehow

She survived

The raking

Burned, shrunken and weary

Somehow she survived

A wizard met her there

In ineffable deepening layers

A magical castle appeared

He of great machinations

He, he reminded her

Of Love

While psychotic waters lapped

Begging for entry

The rushing river full of fishes

Soothed her

His hook and teaching of ways

Saved her

One day wandering away from the castle

Full of both aimless gratitude

And a growing gnawing desire

She stumbled across the river

Into the gates of a Grand Temple

There she was welcomed

The Priestess, smiling

Great cats pacing her sides

Even though hidden

In a gnarled knot of forked tongue

The Priestess met her there

The Priestess chose her

And said again

“Love”

The Priestess beckoned

For a pilgrimage to hot waters

Nestled in canyons

Of dusty oak and soaring vulture

Although she trembled

The trek concluded

With deer and angelica calling

To the lair of The Lovers

How to be Mother

To the Wounded Son

She tempered, she tempered

Between the internal

External

Eternal

Weaving bodies and minds

Slicing cords and sealing

Keeping silent

The Lovers changed her

The Lovers broke her heart

But fueled the Dark Mother

To realize

How to Love

How to Live

How to Serve

How to Breathe

Light, Dark, and all Between

How to hold the line

And honor

Ripped open by teacher

Over and over again

She rose, she rose

Stronger

Father Fire

Loosed her

From Lover’s Nest

To cold concrete

Again, again

Death threatened

Whittling her matter

Trying, trying her skill

Yet this time

She stared in those cold eyes

And recognized

The initiation occurring

She took up the blade

One hand grasping

The other embracing the cold bone

Of this Mother

A darker kind of Love

It is only recently

She has made her way to The Chariot

The evanescent winds of belief

Letting them in

Stepping into the carriage

Holding the reins

Looking out, onto the vista

A field both fenced and wild

Her tigresses, waiting

Her center, alight

It is only recently

She has fully re-membered

What has been and always has been

Along the many meetings

Archetypal collisions walking

Testing, testing

Urging her

To Love

This time?

Death is never far away

This time?

Do you have enough

For Love in Darkness?

She holds the reins

She feels the soft leather, sliding

The bodies of force, pulling

Raring

They say yes

She says yes

To Love,

To the deep heart of remembrance

Waking and reminding

We are here!

There is a path!

Great forces

Within

Without

Circling

They have made us!

Wild and mystical tendrils

Webbing specific faces

And places

These gates, hollows, temples

Soul breath, we look into each other’s eyes

And exclaim

It is time

To go

Love, love, love

Through darkness, madness and fear

Great veils of self-initiation

We’ve walked

We’ve carved sigils into heart

Bleeding, gathering

Recording

Love, love, love

We do it all for Love

It began

With Love

It ends

With Love

Your

Our

Initiation

Love

In the Darkness

Image from The Tarot of The Spirit by Pamela and Joyce Eakins found on: https://www.elitarotstrickingly.com/blog/the-tarot-of-eli-minor-arcana-thoth-tarot-3-of-cups-abundance-tarot-of-the

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Father Wind

Over the course of decades

Over the span of many trials

Comes to pass that I now wield

The reins to guide him

This wild bull of Will

This wild bull of Mind

Great Sprit within

I have known

The beggar and the king

The priestess and the sorcerer

The madman, addict and the sage

Wrestling, ever

With the parts that want to kill

And the parts that want to love

The parts that want to stay

The parts that want to run, hide, flee

In terror

Integration of the Two, the Many

Into center reins of the One

Mind now not so snaggled

By layered fallings of the Abyss

I hold center

I am He

Who discerns

Who brings the great power of Mind and Word

To serve the whole

To serve

The whole

But I remember

Sometimes nightly, so

Those days, and months and years

Of muddled and crazed conscience

Leading to darkness

Magic to manipulate and destroy

Even if in illusion of self

The unexalted one within

I remember

I will never forget that line

I walk it

Daily

I walk it daily

Now holding these reins

Now riding this spit-slobbering yet

Ever-gifting bull

Now speaking the words that calm him

I hold center

I trust

Over the course of decades

Over the span of many trials

Comes to pass that I now wield

The reins to guide and honor him

This wild bull of Will

This wild bull of Mind

These Two, these Many

This One

The Great Sprit

Wind-whipping and wise

Within

I am Father

Father Wind

Image credit: “Father Wind” from Tarot of The Spirit by Pamela and Joyce Eakins

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CPU

The swirlings have begun again

The ancestors, knocking

The babies, crying

The choices, beckoning

The holographic realizations, expanding

The foundations, crumbling

The blazing electrical rerouting, destroying

I keep freezing

This CPU, once able to conduct

What flows through me

Is breaking, again

The terror of its outmoded form

Dissolving

Although timely

Haunts my days

Beckoned, once again

To step into new clothes, new understanding

New wakings, new dyings

These circuit boards are blitzing out

Frequent blankness

Random shut downs

Booting issues

All of these apply

To this slowly failing

Outmoded processing unit

If you calculate the ancestors

That may be waiting to download

Waiting for the seventh son of a seventh son

To finally heal the lines

It doesn’t take that long

To get into the thousands

Thousands waiting

Thousands hovering

Thousands begging

For the one to receive

Thousands of wounds

Thousands of traumas

Thousands of wisdoms

Thousands

This CPU once had blocking features

To not feel it all, throbbing

But the last upgrade

Advertised the removal of this feature

As a bonus

“Now including ancestral awareness”

I feel them

All

Waiting

Thousands

Waiting

Thousands

Wanting

Thousands

Hoping

That I will finally see

That I will carry the essence, magick

The whole of the bloodline sparkle

Clear the misunderstandings

Heal the torn fibers

Alchemize the great and pulsing mass

Into the once true beauty of the well ones

No pressure, eh?

Perhaps it is only I that imagines

But regardless

I can feel the throbbing

I can feel the freezing

I can feel the increasing rate of blips

Occurring in my way of going about it all

I can feel

This circuit board failing

Heavy and pathways jagged

If only by my imagined load

But still it’s real

From the four to the five

And hopefully, eventually

To the six

The old ways of holding

Are breaking down

I’ve been here before

Oh, sacred Tower

Oh sacred Nigredo

I know the downward spiral

The unraveling to a new beginning

It used to cause great upheaval

It used to cause me to run

Sanity imploding

Holding onto to mere threadlines

Doing extreme things

To get something bigger to contain me

Not knowing what was happening

The institution was the only safe place

I can understand now

Why I, and many

Keep returning

But lately, although shaken

I no longer scurry

It’s almost routine

I feel it coming, know what’s happening

And a switch called surrender

A switch called opening

A switch called receiving and curiousity

And an especially helpful feature called

Peaceful

Floating

In the Great

Abyss

Automatically it starts running

Holding me through

As this CPU falters

I realize the coming

Of the hand of a larger technician, replacing

I do my best

To settle back

To switch on the trust mode

Floating in that hollow unknown

As the new

And the old

Circuitry

Lifts and settles

One more time

To ready me

To carry

The thousand watt currents

Of the waiting

Ancient future

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Earth Sister, Sister Earth

Eyes towards Earth

A swirling macrosphere hovers

You know, you know

Balancing the spheres

Fire, Water, Wind and Earth

There’s a peace within

How do you hold it?

How do you wield it?

How do you tend

To this exponential, often terrifying

Sometimes dismembering

Vast and swimming field?

I’m here

Listening to the assignments

Great meditations

Horrid initiations

Carving hollow the space that now holds birth

You know, you know

On winter ice, use caution

There is no use fighting winter

Has it taken eons

To cultivate the space you hold within

All that intersect, feel it

Your pulsing orb of potential

Some call you Sister

Some know you as Queen

This unstoppable force

That springs eternal

Kore Persephone Demeter

Birth, bud, flower, aliveness

Seduction, withering, trauma

Falling

Dissolving, sleeping, waking

Sprouting

The cycle goes on and on

Now, in my gaze

A new birth becomes you

Revelation is near

Filled with the knowing

Ancient mycorrhizal tendrils

Growing into, and out of your form

Connecting, connecting

Pulsing, pulsing

Earth Sister

Will I ever really know your field?

I meditate on this, over and over

And still, struck with the vastness

Of this potential

Filled with birth, life, death and sooty particles

Stuck beneath nail

Smeared upon skin

Cosmological origins solidified

Holding, Holding

Birthing, birthing

Will I ever know you

In me?

This mastery of all potential

A walking Tree

A Radiant Sister-Queen

Serving the wholeness of your creation

Serving the wholeness of Creation

Through only a breath

A glance

A touch

Of your shimmer?

Meditating

On this, Earth Sister

You approach and call into attention

Eyes now open and glaring directly

You say…Follow Your Name

A psychic transmission as I gaze upon you

Calm and pulsing chest

Head now turned to sky

Mouth open, a haunting circumference

Follow Your Name

And Pay

Attention

She reminds me

And then re-absorbs into the field

She is the field

I stand, holding splintering post

This mysterious fence

I’ve circled

The entirety of my life

Looking out

Looking in

Circling

Living

Dying

Birthing

Earth Sister

You are the field

I am in

You are the earth

We are in

You are we

Becoming

Oh holy Shekinah

Precious

Radiant Tree,Walking

Out, onto the Land

My, Our

Your

Earth Sister

~image credit: “Earth Sister” from Tarot of The Spirit by Pamela and Joyce Eakins sourced from https://www.elitarotstrickingly.com/blog/the-tarot-of-eli-llc-court-cards-thoth-tarot-princess-of-disks-tarot-of

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Mother Earth Within

Deep below

Beneath the layers of cold, dark

There is a fire

There are seeds, waiting

There are burrows, warm

There is

A light

She waits, knowing

Her time will come to unfold

Blooming, blossoming

Soft fabric brushing

Skin against skin

As the nights grow colder

As the birdbath forms its frost

She is there, knowing

She is there, glowing

She is there waiting

For you

Whispers rise through denseness

From this deepened core

Calming soothing hushes

Pulling energy inward

Towards Her

Firehearth roaring warm

A chariot awaits

Always available for the riding

Inward spiral clopping

Circling into Her

She calls, she beckons

As the nights grow colder

To ride, to ride

On the starlight trails

Of darklight, inside

To receive the Message

To dream up Vision

To defrost

Frigid extremities

Go into Her

Mother Earth Within

Glide along the well worn

Ancient pathways

Towards Her light

Towards Her warmth

Towards her Love

Deep below

Beneath the layers of cold, dark

There is a fire

There are seeds, waiting

There are burrows, warm

There are visions, dancing

Go there

When you are shivering

Go there

When you feel empty

Go there

When all seems lost

In this long, long night

Go, down

To the Mother Earth

Within

Let Her hold you

Let Her whisper you

To rest, and to someday

Become

~image from The Tarot of The Spirit by Pamela Eakins

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The Mother

Staring

At idealized images of your Love

I’m searching

Searching for the image, words

To describe the archetype

Of your dismembering embrace

The Mother

Quiet, inspiring teacher

Mistress of the inner realms

You

Were not Her

Or rather

You were Her

Reversed

Underworld

I seek the card for the Underworld

That of your smoke-shrouded throne

That of what hourly chants of death

Of haze filled raging

Pleas of victimhood

And bloody stomach incisions

Inspired, quietly

In these bones

This Mother

My Teacher

Upside down and hanging

Beneath the flowers

Beneath the waters

Beneath the calm, smiling Wand

Dripping in gore, ash

And decaying earth tendrils

Where is this Mother?

Not Death

But not Life

You who inspired, quietly

A passion

An obsession

A mission

To Die

The Mother

Mistress of internal Hell realms

The one who inspires

A twisted initiation

Quietly

By the life She “lives”

Surely

There’s a card

For

You?

Image credit: “Loki’s Brood” (1905) by Emil Doepler

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Father Earth

How I yearn for your eyes to pierce me

For your arms, warm and generous

To hold me

Father Earth

With your hearty laugh, your contribution to the Land

Despite the Tragedy, your utter enjoyment

Of this dear life, this dear animal body

Father Earth

How I yearn to feel you close, steady

To watch your attunement to the fields

To experience your resonation with Her cycles

Knowing when to seed

Knowing when to caress

Father Earth

You have seen much, and learned through your impulsiveness

Enough to be here, by the fire of your own temple

Father Earth

How I long to be with you

To truly absorb your vibration

This counter-cultural maturation

This example, shimmering

Father Earth

May I one day

Feel your staff in my hand

Your laugh in my jiggling belly

Your bountiful riches

Flowing through me to assist

Your court, safe and deep

Father Earth

How I yearn for your eyes to pierce me

For your arms, warm and generous

To hold me

And

To let my Priestess

Hold you

Inside

~Image credit: https://www.pyreaus.com/tarot/pyreaus_tarot_court_Disks_Prince.htm

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Brother Wind

Wind Brother

Brother Wind

Brother of the slashing sword

Slicing

Spinning

Sobbing

Amidst all of the noise

Universal Mind

Expansive

You who reach beyond, above

Yet unable

To form a plan

For your own, embodied life

Swirling

Spinning

Slashing

Holding back the darkness

Ideas, grand, so many

You cannot choose

You keep spinning

You keep slashing

You keep

Heaving

Wishing for calm

Wishing for the Core

Wishing to find your Way

To the soul heart

Your own Center

Body

That dear body

Carrying you

Carrying this electrified, pulsing antennae

Is calling you home

With pains, radiating

Below

In the very center of your being

Screaming

Pleading

For you to come down

For you to pay attention

For you to decide

Wind Brother

You are the lightning, brilliance

A champion to many causes

Aside from your own

Soul

Will you commit?

When

She asks

When She pleads

When She begs you, radiating

Will you come home

To be held

By Her

Center?

Brother Wind

Wind Brother

Brother of the slashing sword

May your power

Spiral inward

May your brilliance

Serve the soul

May your tired

And spinning

And slashing

And heaving

Heart

Come home

If you’d like to hear this poem recited aloud, go here: https://anchor.fm/raven417/episodes/Brother-Wind-e1oo7jv .

I suggest you gaze at the image while listening!

~Image credit: “Brother Wind” from Tarot of The Spirit by Pamela Eakins

Death

Death

Death comes

Balancing between spheres

The path is solid

Forevermore

Death

Death Doula

Walking her through

Walking you through

Embodied

She lays the linens

The gossamer shroud

And you breathe

Tended by her

By your side

She sings

Takes you deep into earth

Showing brethren

Don’t you see?

Death

Death Doula

Whether writhing malignant mass

Or hovering, grief-laden blade

She meets you

At the crossroads

Where what you were can no longer be

She meets you

With the ritual

She meets you

Where culture failed

She sees your suffering

She holds your suffering

And

She honors the great transition

The great transformation

This very suffering

Begs you to take

The ritual

Where culture failed you

Physical or psyche dismembering

Screaming

Yearning

To be honored

Yearning to be held

Yearning for rites

All the great rites

Dragging us down

Tearing our lives apart

To see

Death

Death Doula

In body

Or in earth

Let her hold you

Through the long journey

Across Abyss

From Beauty

Across the treacherous path

To Victory

Let her hold you

Move forward into utter Darkness

Putrefy

Fall apart

Into her

Humbled

And imaginal soupy

Intelligence

Death

Death comes