Fallen

Fallen
11 May 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


For the longest time ever, I have felt I have no kinship with Earth and it felt like a foreign land. Even in my childhood, I would look up at the stars and know in my heart that my true home was out there and I was the proverbial “million miles from home”. As a young child I did not have many friends and tended to always sit on my own when there were breaks at the school I was going to. It was called the Good Shepherd Convent and was, as you could guess, a school for female students only. My parents were of opposing religions and from countries that did not see eye to eye with each other. He was a Tamilian black Indian Hindu and she was a white Tunisian Muslim. They couldn’t have been further apart and their life together was a story in itself but I might talk about that later.

As a teenager, I still had that yearning feeling to go back home but I was able to mask it better and was sociable enough to make friends although I could count them on one hand. The friends I made, I was very loyal to and shared a deep connection with. Later on, as a young woman in a University in Nabeul this was still the case. At University, I tended to embrace what others called lost causes and one of them consisted of a direct clash with a special group of Muslim brotherhood called “Ekhwan Al Jihad” or the brothers of the Jihad (holy war). These people, whose shortened name was “Khwanjia” for all of us Tunisians resisting their backward rules and oppression, had gained a disproportionate level of power and Bourguiba, the President at that time, did not seem able to easily get rid of the hold they had – something that Ben Ali had been able to do after he orchestrated a coup against Bourguiba several years later.

Meanwhile, one of the higher level recruits of this brotherhood who lived on the same campus, had gotten besotted with me and decided I was to become his wife. He was very surprised at my resistance and later on, he joined those who would stop us from going to the University in our western attire and threw the large and heavy lid of a dustbin at me in one of his hate-fuelled acts against me. We were all wearing just jeans and normal sweatshirts or shirts that were buttoned to the top but they could not bear the sight of us, refusing to cover our heads and wear long dresses or skirts instead of what they perceived as “figure-hugging, male-enticing jeans from hell”.

There were other happenings where this madman tried to hurt me but I evaded most of the time his hateful attacks. I then changed University to go to ENSI in Tunis, a University for IT engineers but decided to leave after two years because the level of power and hate-fuelled acts of the Khwanjia had gotten too much to bear. With my very Hindu name of Geetha which related to the Bhagavat Gita, one of the holiest books in Hinduism, I stood a lot to lose if the Khwanjia were to seek me out and do God knows what to me. My path had always been one of peaceful resistance but that did not stop them from beating us, attempting to tear our hair out of our heads or throwing stones and other large objects at us.

I finally left for Geneva rather than Paris because I felt I could not handle Paris after being in such a small place as Tunis. Geneva was a lovely quiet town which I enjoyed living in a lot even though the immigration rules were quite tough in order to get there. Throughout the time in Tunis as a young woman, it had always been about resistance and avoiding getting into trouble with the Khwanjia so I had not thought much about my ultimate goals but as the quiet of Geneva seeped into me, my previous levels of extraneity took over and I started to feel homesick again, wanting to be out there in the stars.

Life took over while I still stayed firmly entrenched in my dreams of going to sleep and waking up in a planet I could call home again. I went through two marriages and had children from my second marriage whom I loved more than myself to the point of concentrating all my energy on them and almost feeling at home on Earth. Things had gone awry with my first husband because the values we lived by were at odds and he had issues he had never disclosed to me before our marriage. Things went awry with my second marriage as well leaving me in a situation where I was taking care of my children almost single-handedly and our expenses as well as the tax situation were making our financial situation stretched and our relationship as tense as it could ever be.

A break came in the form of a posting I was given in Dubai in 2007, where I was told there were no taxes on income and it seemed like a good idea to go there and at least ease the financial burden on us. Initially, my ex-husband was supposed to come and see if this could change things and he did come to visit in September 2007 but he did not want to lose his position as a Partner in the law firm he was working at so he decided not to join us, after which I decided to file for divorce in the fall of 2008.

In Dubai, I gained more financial freedom initially and was able to start reading again, not having to clean up everything and have to always cook like I was doing during my time with my second husband. I had a cook and a maid taking care of everything that needed to be taken care of. It was lovely to be able to keep my mind occupied with more than just my work and the children’s needs and I started even envisaging to write again. Suddenly things got out of hand in 2010 and I then created a blog to report most of what was happening, share literary produce such as poems and short stories I wrote or share my artwork. What happened from that fated date of August 12, 2010 (note that my birthday is August 12) is mostly laid out in my blog so I will not reiterate what I already wrote. This break in my life, though deeply disturbing and painful, brought out the spiritual side of me again and all that I had been thinking about during my teenage years and as a young woman began to take shape again.

After 2010 I became involved in several charitable endeavours and worked towards trying to make the Earth a better place, one person at a time, changing the sides of myself I felt did not sit well with the person I wanted to be. So many things happened, the culmination of which pushed me to the path of healing which I embraced wholeheartedly starting first with the study of Pranic healing after having experienced healing people with just the healing touch – later on, I became a Reiki Master and worked with Bach flowers remedies. The more I healed people, the more I felt myself being drawn into what I perceived as myself roaming the Earth in sleep, healing others in my dreams. At one point in Dubai, while I was doing a distance healing I felt inclined to create an energy pattern that was all around me. This became a daily work and I was given to know that I was building a Merkabah using Indian mudras.

Several months later, the Merkabah was apparently ready and I experienced in my dreams what I later understood were astral travels. I did not remember much of those travels which I relegated to the dream world so as to keep my drive to work and take care of my children during the daytime. As the years passed by, I started having the conviction that I had to build more points of energy in the Merkabah so that it could work for much longer distances. This was achieved in January 2017 and I experienced a great deal of light entering my body after which my astral travels became clearer. After a few days, around end January, however, I realised that the Merkabah had been ruined and I could not get back to weaving it.

The points of energetic alignment using mudras were no longer leading anywhere as if my mind could not make them properly anymore. My Merkabah had truly been broken beyond repair and I could do nothing about it as my correct weaving of mudras had been damaged. The years 2017 to 2019 dragged on until the passing of my mother in summer of 2019. Somehow, her demise triggered something that made my pattern of mudras able to align correctly to create the Merkabah again. I am still weaving slowly but surely and I know the Merkabah should be fully ready at least by 2026, perhaps for my birthday in that year to be a day of fulfilled hope again. I had fallen but I may just be able to go home and bask in blue again.

Delerium - Fallen (Превод)

The goal is less than the journey

The goal is less than the journey
10 May 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


We toil through light of the day
first eager then bent by dismay
thoughts racing for mind to relay
to our hearts that sort them softly

All negatives we put to rest
To keep of life but a fine zest
To overcome the fiery test
We voice strong what we want to change

No day passed by without a word
Tis more the soul than ear that heard
soft psalms sent to Gods we revered
on knees in penance for hurt caused

The angels gather our secrets
both the hopes and bitter regrets
while the mind keeps sinking and frets
they build cocoons around our frames

Through it all your body is near
forging happiness out of fear
a vision of beauty so clear
Your nearness is like a whisper

Feeling your touch my heart takes flight
flux upwards of utmost delight
sailing within shades of the light
The goal is less than the journey


Written in the context of Ronovan writes Ovi Poetry using the word “flight” as inspiration. For more information and other poems you can follow this link https://ronovanwrites.com/2025/05/07/ovi-poetry-99-flight-is-your-inspiration/

Reading of the poem:
Francis Goya - Dance me to the end of Love

Piercing through the skies

Piercing through the skies
18 April 2025
Courtesy freepik.com


I cry hard
inconsolable
Memories
of burnt trees
spin webs across my eyelids
Outer world just skids

I remain
within two states held
A prison
unveils me
On my limbs lie tools that weld
heart and mind’s union

I tread slow
across dreams that beat
arrhythmic
to my feet
drunken dancing to repeat
the despair hollow

Tomorrow
I will resume fight
crouching slight
bearing light
Darkness no longer bears fright
I shine through the night

Spirits high
I walk before Gods
Like infant
they feed me
irreducible hopes stretched
thin before my eye

Paper flies
tracing higher spheres
my mind hears
lullabies
Angel singing fears denies
piercing through the skies

Reading of the poem:
Kalandra - The State of the World (Official Music Video)

My sins are washed clean

My sins are washed clean
4 June 2023
Courtesy pinterest.com
Hear now hark
My voice brings lustre
To gateways
Within Earth
Igniting throughout the dark
My body a spark

Surrender 
I am stark Angel 
Avenger
Rebel son
To the bright seat contender
Holy pretender

I may lean
Both sides admit me
I foster
Renegades
My wings are repelling blades
My sins are washed clean

Reading of the poem: 
Dimash - SOS | 2021

In Heavens’ voices

In Heavens’ voices
6 May 2023
Courtesy fine art america
They offered
a wane chance to go
beyond Time
back before
when the seedlings were no more
and clocks conjured space

They compel
from dark clouds revel
The rain fell 
in Bahrain
drawing circles of my pain 
tattooed in my wrists

Mind desists
from chance to relive
I forgive 
past choices
The soul in me rejoices
in heavens’ voices

Reading of the poem:
Ascetic mood – Dhafer Youssef

The sea progresses

The sea progresses
1 October 2021
Courtesy pinterest.com
The winds carried me
delicate wings fluttering
in ascent of skies

Dark clouds gathered tight
In graceful touch of the night
while the moons surged sleek

The days’ rise upturned
sunlit landscapes glittered white
The tides washed the beach

Sparkling sugar straits
reflections of sandy slopes
swell under the sun

Bright eyes stretch inwards
gathering the suns rays’ kiss
irises spotless

The sea progresses
my body in solemn vow
meets dizzy waves’ pull

Reading of the poem
Niyaz - Arzusun
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly haiku challenge using the words “clean”, “rise” or their synonyms. More on the rules and other poets’ contribution here
https://ronovanwrites.com/2021/09/27/ronovan-writes-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-377-clean-and-rise/  

To cradle of light

To cradle of light
27 November 2020 
Courtesy pinterest.com
 
Mind’s tendrils
nailing the target
course reset
no regret
The hand on my heart measure
of pulsing leisure
  
Within eye
the whispering trees
build gardens 
of morrows
bridges of new intentions
my bosom crosses
  
The journey
a flight within reeds
Ticking clock 
awaits none
Elementary treasures
growing from the shrubs
  
Untangling
sister’s weaving spun
through the heat
that melts all
A riddle for mind to fall
A tale to recall
  
Adventure
the soul has begun
within joints
it anoints
hands drawing cardinal points
spaces the eye seeks
  
The light flows
within my body
It quivers
in rivers
messages it delivers
to cradle of light
  
Messiah Project - Region Of Darkness, Cradle Of Light 
Reading of the poem: 

In the heart that moved

In the heart that moved

31 March 2020

Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Delude me

Canticles of lore

We will pray

Never more

To fears etched within the skies

Downtrodden in lies

 

Elude me

The chest in bosom

I will wake

Griffin’s spark

Fumbling fingers through the dark

Reach the love’s lighthouse

 

Preclude me

Once upon a rhyme

I witnessed

Miracles

Thawing frozen icicles

In the heart that moved

 

Reading of the poem:

Flora Cash – You’re Somebody Else – Lyrics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bdx5kTFLF4o

The Shaman Tales 6 : Molding Consciousness

The Shaman Tales 6 : Molding Consciousness

28 March 2020

Courtesy wallup.net

When she had first started using the shamanic gift on a large scale to summon rains she had known that this would happen according to the Ancient magic rules. These dictated that whatever the outcome in the immediate physical it would be replicated within one year or up to eighteen months from the time the ceremony was carried out thereby molding consciousness at that time. This was known as the frontal projection of the consciousness stream and required the shaman to separate from his/her physical self and stay astral during the intended time. Conversely, in a backward timeloop, one had to make the astral body go three years before the present time to carry out a shamanic ceremony that would affect the present.

 

Initially, she was meant to migrate from her current city to a special place called Alice Springs. She had pondered about it when the city had come out as a result of her dowsing ceremony as she did not know what this meant. It was then that she realized that there existed an Alice Springs and it was in Australia. By coincidence her own helper was dreaming of going to Australia but rather to Sydney than anywhere else. She thought that consciousness combined with her spells should take her to Australia then in astral form if not in the flesh.

 

At first, she realized that it was the fires of the phoenix that had been let out in the combined consciousness and to combat the ensuing drought-like state it was necessary to summon the rains. Her location was quite far from the regions affected but she knew that consciousness could carry through the shamanic trance joined with the witches’ spell if she released them within the right level of consciousness and at the right moment for them to manifest.

 

She knew that GAIA’s program was to regenerate herself by reducing what she considered weeds spread amongst her beautiful flowers. As a good gardener knows, if a beautiful patch of the garden is contaminated by weeds or by parasitic flowers, it is necessary to sacrifice patches of those flowers to save the whole garden. As a result GAIA had decided to wipe out many of what she considered weeds and that were in effect human beings. She did not consider them as more important than others because humans had long lost their connection to GAIA. She decided to do this in the region that lent itself the most to this and entire cities in Australia had suffered raging fires. The shamanic trance and combined witches’ spell helped with bringing some relief with the rains to the lands although it was insufficient as not enough levels of consciousness were drawn in by the worded intention. In short, the magic was diluted…

 

Tulku – Trancendence

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4VU8MkXr9Rc

Third path shone

Third path shone

26 March 2020

Courtesy pixabay

 

Do you hear

The idle gossip?

Yesterday

Twined with lies

Waters that well in bosom

Reach out to my eyes

 

Two roads lay

Stretching unity

I lie low

Neither side

Beckoning tombstones prevail

I watch dead and wail

 

Third path shone

Middle traced by mind

I rewind

Path so kind

Gathered from my memories

For the h(u)/(ea)rt to (ceas)/(seiz)e

 

Reading of the poem:

Scorpions – Follow Your Heart (Official Lyric Video)

Scorpions – Send me an angel [Music Video]

Scorpions – Still Loving You [Lyrics + Traduction Française]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3Kzu2dejPM