The wolves are calling
4 May 2020
Uprising
From a place of peace
The lambs stray
None to fleece
Tidings set to opposite
Where we and they sit
The mighty
Fearful of the weak
Imbalance
Will come forth
We hail them the future times
Hidden in my rhymes
Hark listen
The wolves are calling
I hear them
Prowling on
Within my head I respond
My kindred freedom
Reading of the poem:
Muse – Uprising [Official Video]
The Shaman Tales 7 : The spells
2 April 2020
At first there came the sound and then another and another making it a word. Then the mind looked into the heart and bound itself to it. Then the heart and mind bound breathed into the word and the spell came into being. It was as easy as that to create a spell. Was it that easy, she thought? Then of course it occurred to her that it was not that easy to bind the mind to the heart. It took years of practice just for the mind to be able to look properly into the heart, let alone bind itself to it. The magic was strongest though when the heart and mind were effortlessly bound together and remained that way.
Once the spell released into the outer world, it was important that this was picked up by strong consciousness points. These were essentially creative people because their hearts and minds were bound together and stayed so effortlessly. In the process of disseminating the effect of the spell, one creative person counted as a million individuals who were neither creative nor having looked into their hearts with their minds and bound them together. She knew anyway that it was rare for a person to have bound their heart and mind and not become a creative person as a result of that exercise so in general the target was creative people.
For the magic to work without her intervention, it was sufficient to have at least 10 creative people read or hear the spell. If they read and heard it, it was even more efficient. The more creative people who were involved in the reading or hearing of the spell, the better it worked. For some reason, the spell attained its peak when a million creative people read and heard it and from that point on, the magic mutated and did not have the same effect anymore. It was not that it worsened. It just became different and she always marveled to see what different effects could be obtained when the magic spell mutated.
Dead Can Dance – Kiko
In the heart that moved
31 March 2020
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
I am gone
30 March 2020
Did you see ?
The ripple-clad lake
In shining
Replicates
The wonders that we can be
When we’re pacified
Speak to me
The birds have lost songs
Their beaks blue
Like my soul
My mind relinquished control
The lack in your words
Hone me slow
Caress my feathers
I am gone
In song shrill
Birds calling on window sill
They follow shadows
Reading of the poem:
Within – Winter Aid
The Shaman Tales 6 : Molding Consciousness
28 March 2020
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
The Shaman tales 5: Uncovering the shamanic gift
25 March 2020
She had always known she was a white witch, but it was only recently that she had found out that she was also a shaman. The knowledge had come to her after a particularly striking episode when she had been dancing to trance music and had experienced a shamanic journey into another world. She never consumed drugs so knew that there had to be truth to that journey. It was a world where spirits walked in fumes with nothing separating them from other human beings. She had looked around her in the night club and nobody else seemed to be noticing the spirits yet all of them were dancing to the same music she was dancing to.
She looked around her fascinated. The stroboscopic lights cast around filled the fumes of the spirits with various lights making them look like rainbows disintegrating on the dance floor. She wondered what the spirits were doing in the night club. Were they not meant to be somewhere more peaceful, she thought? One spirit seemed to realize that she was looking right at it and not through it and came up close to her. She was not sure she felt comfortable enough this close to it and raised a hand. It went right through the spirit who laughed. It was not a wicked laugh, just a friendly amused one. She laughed back. They were not as terrible as many made them to be. They only wanted to be part of this world just like us, she thought.
That was all before she discovered the extent of the Shamanic gift. How it could allow her to summon either the raven’s rains or the fires of the phoenix. That was before she discovered that the combination of the witch capacities and the shamanic gift could help mold consciousness itself
Cyberion – Strange Signals
Ocean greets me kin
24 March 2020
This is not a play
Tragedy nor comedy
This is a life’s toil
I splatter the drops
The waters in rivulets
Aspire for bay
Ocean greets me kin
Movement of waves like my skin
A body of clay
Reading of the poem:
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly Haiku 298 using the words bay and play. For rules and more poems follow this link.
Gurdjieff – De Hartmann Vol 12: Prière Pour La Miséricorde, Alain Kremski
The woven life 1 : A conscious stream
17 March 2020
Every time she focused her thoughts something so intimately connected with it would happen in the outer world. It was as if consciousness was responding to her thoughts and replicating what she wished internally to replicate. She noticed that sometimes the matter she thought about was so far fetched that the outcome of her focused thoughts was surprising and not similar to her thoughts at all. Yet in the midst of all those peculiar outcomes she knew that these were merely intermediate stages of consciousness moving towards her desired outcome. Indeed, the more she focused on her outcome the more this became part of what consciousness wanted as outcome if one could speak of wanting when discussing consciousness. She could see this because the more she wanted to be part of consciousness and was aware of it, the more consciousness was aware of her within it, with all the desires she embodied.
She decided to leave her full-fledged meditation based on the teachings of great men of other philosophies and embrace fully this relationship to consciousness. She would spend hours now at will concentrating her mind on the desired outcome and weaving through her mind’s eye the necessary consciousness streams to make it happen in the physical realm. She knew that you did not need to be at a specific place or reach for a specific consciousness stream emanating from another person. All you had to do was think of that person and project both your intent and that person’s would be intent into that area where your consciousness was taking you. From there on, it was a simple task to weave that stream or thread with the ones you already had.
Anyone who has made or seen being made those intricate patterns woven by mainly women and children who weave using preset nails hammered on a board would know what this looks like. The only difference is that there is no requirement for nails to be hammered. It is sufficient to have the points of intent set within the consciousness and then have the streams woven through the intent. She was getting expert at doing this and realized that when she wove grand, in the sense that this would have a macroscopic effect with little to no benefit for her, this was strangely more likely to have an outcome similar to her request than when she wove with her own benefit in mind…
Alone and Together – No Clear Mind
Talking birds
15 March 2020
Springtime dew
Drops on daffodils
Grass that sprouts
All about
My mind running wild with bees
Larks that morning frees
Summer breeze
Seeping through winter
Blinded herds
Haughty nerds
Of the meanings that become
Lost messages hummed
Symphonies
Stretching in the sun
Talking birds
Swirling words
Of the moments that I sum
With my heart’s fingers
Reading of the poem :
Max Richter – Dream 3 (in the midst of my life)
The slow mist covered soft
10 March 2020
The chest gathered arrows
A sacrifice thrown at its feet
Of the archer it shows
Upturned splendor of his defeat
Mind to heart made appeal
No prison for want of warden
A kiss of love to seal
A pact made in yonder garden
The slow mist covered soft
Flowers in the garden blooming
The heart yet kept aloft
Silken threads to the mind grooming
Reading of the poem:
B-Tribe – Agua azul
B-Tribe – Spiritual Spiritual
B – TRIBE – Suave Suave
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