Our thoughts. Those caterpillars that come and go. Such power they have. Specially when they’re fueled by our emotions. Such is their strength that what we think shapes our reality and our belief system, and our body! The isolation of thought is one of the most difficult parts of the type of meditation that I’ve been doing for years (‘Initiation into Hermetics’ – Franz Bardon), but once that is managed, a new gate opens to the extraordinary world of magic. Real magic. As in, making things happen with the fruit of your mind work. Even, changing the shape of your body (it’s a process)
I am mesmerized by the moon.
Sovereign and spruce.
Like beauty, it grows, it fades… quietly.
It oversees lovers’ promises,
blood rites and sworn secrecies,
She’s somewhere but not here,
Way too pretty for this city.
Way too open for the game.
Many come and go
taking as much as possible
without thinking, consequence or care.
They just are.
She just is, too.
We are so distracted.
We are so often profoundly absent from the present moment.
With our fears, our unfounded worries, our preconceptions, our learned behaviours, our wounds, our patterns, our perception of what’s right and what’s wrong.
This crisis manifests in many horrors related to our health, but one of the most poetic is the resulting loss of our cellular identity. Thus creating imbalances such as cancers, autoimmune disease, multiple sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis and other chronic conditions that often have no medical remedy.
All I ever wanted
was for him to hold me with raw passion,
his heart pounding against my breasts,
his hand grabbing my arm
as if I was his only possession.
His eyes digging deep into my soul
as if his life depended on my kisses,
as if I was his last breath.
Pinning me down,
as if I was the only thing
to save his life.
I know, my child,
life is unfair.
Your heart was abandoned… your soul, your whole being.
You only wanted to love, like most.
They rejected it… You.
A broken heart never really heals… wounds pile up.
I know about the endless nights unable to quiet the mind,
about the unendurable pain on my entrails,
my throat swallowing the thorns,
the zombie passing of the days,
In a time of adversity
I wanted to save the world.
There was a chance.
“Wake up! can you not see?”
shaking everybody’s shoulders,
to awaken them from their sleep.
Some close ones rose against me,
they did not want to get up.