The Fire That Does Not Taint

A golden sky of dawn

the creation breathes in

but our struggles go unseen

by all except the Goddess.

The fight for purity,

detachment but love

dying to something primitive

that by all accounts looks like love,

but is poison and bitterness in disguise.

Under the pressure, a light appears

the more overdue, the stronger

is the invisible hand, holy presence like

a silvery, comforting veil

or moonlight making the air around me

luminous in the dark night,

snow crystals glittering like

the new understanding in my heart.

Arthur Rackham,
Sangreal

The mind is powerless facing these mysteries

the mystery of the agony of repentance,

losing hope but not ceasing to look

for a stronger faith

as if the heart will not allow

my grasp of the light to loosen

just like it won't allow the breath,

the blood, the body to cease.

My mysterious Mother

Mother of Angels,

Mother of the Universe,

Mother of Creation

infusing this black, defiled body

bringing to life the ancient fire

in my atoms, the fire that leads

to immortality

in the sacred darkness and prayer

you appear, you guide me

I cannot take my mind or heart away from you

or the dangers will come too close to endure.

How easy to deny everything - evil and love,

but let me find a way of flowing

through the grip of evil

and into the pure spaces

where I may find love

that burns and consumes like the secret eternal fire

that does not taint.