Revelation And Offering

~*from The Tarot of The Spirit, by Pamela and Joyce Eakins*

**Head’s up–For the next two months I will be switching my posting schedule to Sundays vs Mondays. Thank you for reading :}

Over the past year

I have been travelling

Travelling on the Paths

Travelling on the Tree

Deep in The Hermit’s temple

And now, at this important gate

Into the realms of Creation Completed

I sit, in reflection

I receive, Revelation

Could it be

That the constant seizing of my thighs

The sacrum’s sharp aching

The shooting piercing needles

The burning soles

The terrifying feeling that

All I stand on will collapse and give way

Could it be

That this

Is the force of my own Life?

Teaching, initiating me into my own evolution?

Could it be Universe

Constellating

Crafting my own initiation

Pulling me to my knees

Dissembling everything I know

And once again, stripping me

To the Core

To be rebuilt once again?

Could it be

That child, screaming

Using the only way it knows how

To STOP me

To get me to let go of mind’s flight

And come Home?

Could it be pulling me down

To look at Her?

To listen?

To let her wail and rage

About what, until now

Has been buried deep within?

Could it be the only way?

Could it be The Way?

Like the Moon

Always changing, rearranging

Remembering and dissembling

There is a flash

As I fall down these branches

That it is a value

To be medial, liminal

Beyond the linear voicing

That this, too

Can describe who one may be

From the Tower in my gut

Implanted over lifetimes, lineages

I am putting all my works towards the cause

Screaming, writhing, agony

So be it

This is The Way

This is My Way

To come to Strength

Strength may be acceptance

Strength may be adaptation

And yet–it may also be full revitalization

A pulsing aliveness

Animating joy once more

Dancing, sensual, savoring

Yes this, this is my Revelation

My Offering?

After all of this walking?

After all of this screaming?

After all of this writhing?

Perhaps

If my body is a reflection

Of the care that the Earth may need from us right now

Of the need to to turn us away and within

From all of the ideas, and plans, and accomplishments

We may wish to do as a species

If my body is a reflection

Mirroring this essential need to turn back towards our bodies

To turn back towards the Earth

To turn back towards the illnesses

That are showing up inside of us

This Writhing

This Screaming

To turn towards them as a priority

Is this awareness

Borne from some inner blaze and reformation

My greatest work, the Great Work?

Am I actually doing something “more” with my life

In the tending of this body

Body as Earth, body as species

Body as messenger for the depths that hunger to be seen

Is this, and this vision’s transmission

My Offering?

There is no way to truly know

Except to fuck around and find out

As the thighs constantly seize

As the sacrum sharply aches

As the shooting piercing needles

The burning soles

Rip through my flesh once more

As the terrifying feeling that

All I stand on will collapse and give way

Crumbling all of my ability

To move through the world on my own

May I remember

This Revelation

May I remember

This Offering

May my focus on this dear, seizing, screaming body

Affect the collective to tend to these things in deep ways

And may it bring Strength

To my life once more

May it bring Strength

To us all

Solve et Coagula

~The Tower card from The Thoth Tarot
(via rowantarot.blogspot.com)

May I open to receive the Key of The Tower

The Lord of the Hosts of the Mighty

The Temple of The Cosmos

May I be strong enough

To digest your teaching

Another round of

Solve Et Coagula

At my door

Lightning Flash

Recognition

Destabilization

Transmuting Vibration

The Activating and Exciting Intelligence

From Vision to Symbol

Help me, oh quaking girder

Help me to have the courage

To embody your terrifying charge

I still do not understand

Why you rest in my center

Why your imprint and constant reformation

Shakes me to my core

From within

Over and over again, oh Tower

You have decimated me

Decimated…and reformed

And I stand here with you, again, now

What more can I release?

Which skins are you tearing away?

What false perceptions are you uncovering?

Oh Voice, oh Sacred Mouth

What will your vibrations reveal?

Ripping through my entire being

I know You

I stand, shaking, ready for your destruction

While conversely, asking for your blessing

To help me hold onto my essence

To survive that which you oddly seek to destroy

By nourishing

May I open to receive the Key of The Tower

The Lord of the Hosts of the Mighty

The Temple of The Cosmos

May I be strong enough

To digest your teaching

Another round of Solve Et Coagula at my door

Hold me

While you disintegrate the obsolete

Into smoking shards of dust

While you call forth my New World

That which illuminates the Deep Realities

And demands them

Into shimmering, radiant, and walking

Form

Opaque

Help me see through this pain

Everything is blank

All I can do is breathe

Help this darkness

Become gossamer gown

Delicate, webbings of beauty

Sparkling with meaning of fresh tears

Translucent, a reality

In which this body

Can dance

And write

And dream, once more

Help me see through this pain

Everything is blank

All I can do is breathe

All I can do

Is breathe

Featured

Crossroads

As of now

Everything is crumbling

Drab, drab, drab

The pieces, dead and gray

Fall through my fingers

No longer enlivened

By my breath

I’ve been here before

When the time has come for change

I now feel it in my bones

Recognize it like a panting dog

In these times

The way

Becomes very, very unclear

Facing

This crossroads

The options cloaked in deep, deep darkness

I must sit here, waiting

Hoping She’ll come

Hoping that Dweller will meet me

Hoping Her light will shine on the Path

These hungry hands

These seeking feet

They ache for the Way

Sitting here

On this stump, in darkness

I know there’s these portals

I can’t see them, but I feel their vacuum

I’ve been here for awhile

Watching people, various creatures passing by

Passionate in their direction

Watching them, swallowed

By the inky black as they stride into their certainty

Not one of them stops as they pass

A few, they glance at my crouching figure

But none hold my gaze

None look deeply into my yearning

It’s all business and purpose

It’s all fame and popularity

It’s all marketing and worth

It’s all just marching forward, staying focused

Avoiding breath

Death

Birth

And other fairytales

Why doesn’t anyone linger here?

Question the choice?

Lay down offerings at the mouth of these gaping portals?

Can they not see?

Or do I

Stare at illusion?

All I know, is that regardless

This place is powerful

And that I

Feel disoriented

Here

Casting aside self-doubt

And those tricksy comparisons

I try to kindle my hope

From weak smoldering into flame

I try to envision Her

Emerging from the mouth of Death

Emerging from the mouth of life

Emerging from the mouth

Of shadowy transformations

I try to hold the image of Her

Staff in one hand, glowing lamp in the other

The image of Her, looking at me

Stopping here

Knowing me

Perhaps just Her, sitting with me

While all others pass

Is enough

But that flame keeps her pointing alive

It keeps Her hand, lamp absorbed

In mine

It keeps Her wise, warm body

Next to mine

Breathing

Then rising

Then walking

We’re walking

Together

Into the darkness

And the clear path of my life

This vision holds it

Greeting us, on the other side

Perhaps, however

It’s just Her

Sitting here, at the Crossroads

On this stump

Surrounded by imagined doorways cloaked in shadow

Watching them all pass by

Her, With me

When no one else wants to stop and say a prayer to the blackness

Perhaps it’s just Her

Sitting here, with me

That smoldering hope, I keep alive

Wishing soon for Her to emerge

Laying down offerings

Being invisible

Feeling the unbearable and stripping confusion

Here

On this stump

At the Crossroads

Hekate

From the depths of pain

I call to you

Hekate

From the aching, throbbing, nerve lightning

I call to you

Hekate

With my offering of blood, bone and berry

I call to you

Hekate

Black dog dreaming

Snakes and skeletons you rise

A vulture, persistent

Unmoved by car, shout or rushing

Just staring

Staring

Is that you,

Hekate?

And are you calling

Me?

Into my Great Below

To face demons, prisoners

Trapped decades

Beneath?

Do you demand my

Attention

With the aching and terror

With the fears and doomcasting

With the inability to do nothing

But lie down

Belly to earth

And let the skins birthe me?

Do you demand my attention

As I am seeking yours

To do the work of death?

To do the work of life?

To truly know the agony

As I prepare to hold others?

Hekate

I call to you

With offerings of blood, bone and berry

From the aching, throbbing, nerve lightning

I call to you

Please show me the way

Hekate

Do you hear me?

As I stand here, blindfolded

At The Crossroads?

Do you exist?

Can you help me?

Or is it just the vulture, persistent

Staring

thank you

Photo by Ron Graham-Becker on Pexels.com

thank you, great mushroom nation

thank you, great plant spirit nation

thank you, great animal nation

thank you, oh well and healed ancestral lines

thank you

even you

great human nation

thank you, for helping me see

thank you, for helping me release

thank you, for cleansing away

what no longer serves

thank you, for helping me transmute

thank you, for making space for new vision

thank you, for showing me the Wand

in my hand

the soil beneath my feet

the particular and ripe seed that yearns

for my attention

now

thank you, great mushroom nation

thank you, great plant spirit nation

thank you, great animal nation

thank you, oh well and healed ancestral lines

and thank you

yes even you i give thanks to

oh great human nation

for helping me

to see the cracks

to feel the hidden reflections

to know

i am not alone

thank you, great mystic family

furred, finned

mycelial, epithelial

meeting me on the dusty trail,

at the seashore,

in frustration,

and beneath cardboard

down rank cement alleyways

filled with death

and despair

thank you

for helping me

to feel this heart

to hold center

as this great Wheel turns

to dismember and remember

to know, to hear, to see

how this Wand and this Garden

wish to become

thank you

~Messenger~

Somedays I feel you

So close

Soft, ancient feathers inside thighs

We’re soaring, lightning

From Mystery to Manifest

Vibrations, great warbles

Shudder through my casing

My fingers, gripping

Ever fearing the end

Riding, this fire

Mouth open

I remember aliveness

I remember purpose, initiatic

I remember voice, cawing

I remember…alive, clear

This

So unlike the Darkness

The stillness

Etheric goo of Void

More often than not

My thighs feel Nothing

Aside from the air

Hovering, directionless

There, more often than not

Is vast, open, empty space

Potential, and

Mystery

With no function

In such embodied worlds

Hovering, this potential

Yearns for your feathers

Pressing between me, inside

To ride, to become

To carry this Mystery, on lightning

Skilled

To its place in the world

Reception, form, purpose, home

Ten stations, looming

And dull eggtooth

Pecking

Thickness overwhelming

And aching

To ride you

Sounding Mystery

Sounding Message

Riding, lightning

Messenger

Come

The War Within

Free me

From the old, outdated

Despotic government

Within my own tissues

The linear

Rule and fear based

Trajectory decision

Making factories

Housed within

Free me

From this continual War

From the fear

That I will have nothing

Nothing

Beyond worrying about food

If I eat enough to not be starving

Beyond the plotting, planning

Free me from the fear

Of feeling too full

Of old, archaic terrors

I’ve no real understanding of

Nor skill of navigating through

Alone

Free me from feeling unattended

Lost

Abandoned

With this struggle

Unmet and misunderstood

Free me from eating less

In fear of all of this terrifying mystery

Arising

In fear of whatever this is

That keeps me in this hidden

Non-emergency

Yet ever-whittling

Cycle

Of depending on measuring spoons

And calories

And minutes

To hold me

To hold it

At bay

Free me

From whatever it is

That keeps me focused on this

And distracted

From the fullness

Of what I could be living

Of what I really desire

Of the sheer and overwhelming

Vision manifested

FREEDOM

Would look like

Truly feeling my body tell me its hungers

Truly knowing what would feed it

Truly giving myself that

Truly knowing when it is enough

Truly feeling the result of a met desire

Satiation

Little

Girl

Fed

Her

Beyond the calories

And meal plans

And minutes

And cups

And measuring spoons

And fear of fullness

And orchestrating my whole entire fucking existence

Around this constant

Fear

Of fullness

Around this constant

Fear

Of…

Freedom?

Some days

When I haven’t just collapsed into numbness

Of just accepting that this

all

there

I pray so hard

So goddamned hard

The spit chokes me

I pray so goddamned hard

For something to support me

In this unimaginable transformation

One it seems I have tried

Every position of attempt

And arrived at

Nothing

Covered in this slimy residue

Of grievings

I wail

FREEDOM

I want it so bad

To hear this desire

Spontaneous

To know how to feed it

To feel myself feeding it

To feel myself feeling full of it

To feel myself enjoying that fullness

This

FREEDOM

Is it possible

To feel something

Beyond this?

I’m praying

Again

I’m wailing

Again

I’m risking

Your complete and utter

Lack of response

Again

I’m crying out

Anyway

You

~Originally written as “Her Hunger” for Liberty. Breath, Death, Soul. A Literary Collection by The Sisters of The Holy Pen, ed. Pamela Eakins (2020). Shared with respect to all of the intense and horrendous things others are experiencing in their outer worlds…but also inside their inner, and perhaps holographic, ones too.

Holding hope for the planet and the Soul of our species.

Spirits Of Illness

Spirits of Illness

Do you come in service

Or do we ready

For battle

Is it both

Spirits of illness

Do you come to destroy us

Or wake in initiation

Is there a message you carry

Or do you just aim

To lay waste

Spirits of Illness

What is the message

Stay home with the children?

Honor the elders?

Take care of our bodies?

Respect our boundaries?

Go inside and Slow it down?

No wall can separate us?

Or is it

Clear the planet

Lighten the load

Let the trees breathe

The grasses grow

And the Coyotes run wild in the streets

Initiation, Wounded Healers

Tragedy, Victimization

Initiation, Transforming Alchemy

Devastation, Fear Apocalypse

Initiation…Initiation?

Spirits of Illness

Do we find relation

Or do we destroy

Spirits of Illnesss

Plagues, Measles, HIV, Ebola, SARS, Addiction

Spirits of illness

9/11

Spirits of illness

Mass wildfires, lava eruption, flood

Spirits of Illness

Blackouts Blackouts Blackouts

Spirits of illness

Inflammation in our

Breathing

Grieving

Center

Are you another form teaching, preparing

As in the Dream

Do we face you as ally

And learn

How do I stay balanced

In this momentous occasion

Honoring the reflection

The great power of the Death Mother

Yet not willingly succumbing to Her annihilation

May the well ones guide me

May I be guided

Steered

Shown

I put my life in your hands

Spirits of illness

Do you come in service

Or come to destroy me

Is it both

Please show me

I’ve been asking this question

My whole damn life

*Previously published in Pandemic Corona: Poems of Shock, Fear, Realization and Metamorphosis, ed. Pamela Eakins