Our energy is a work of Art in itself,
Thinking of you inspires something in me which only the conjuring of a Magician dares to do.
My thoughts constantly drift back to you
Wanting to nestle my nose in your wild hair like a bird safe in its nest.
You feel like home to me.
But I am weary of this sunny weather, the storms of life roll thru & take things away in an instant.
The mind slips sweetly & a limb is rendered useless
the crutch that a person becomes
as you slowly lean
like the tower of Pisa,
distributing more & more weight upon this easy feeling until you can no longer hold yourself on your own two feet …or the whole thing collapses from leaning in on each other. I’ve experienced this beautiful wrecking ball before & am well acquainted with the demolition team who always leaves a disgusting mess behind
While I alone am the clean up crew, slowly piecing the parts of myself back together, adding a fresh coat of paint over all the rust & cracks hiding beneath
pretending to be something shiny & new. I have been many colors in this lifetime, wielded many coats & worn many faux finishes.
So I continue, rigorously training myself in the Art of Unattachment while my heart aches to paint itself into the picture of another’s soul.
I always pick up the paint brush, holding a beautiful vision,
but later look back at a pile of tarnished canvases of muddy colors
& unfinished works.
The whole time I know the answer is to focus on finishing
My Own Masterpiece
but collaborations bring more depth, playing off each other’s energies until new colors are created.
I get consumed by the fiery orange & red hues the heat of being in your presence generates,
until one day I find myself again,
in the bleak blue-grey rain
of the Storm that this Art of Love
So I seek shelter
In my busy-ness
In my hermitude
While I pick at the cracks in the coats of paint
& reminisce in the colors I’ve seen birth through myself
While from the comfort of my
self-confinement I online shop for paint thinner & desperately search for blank canvases which are sold-out on every site I find.
~ A. Gold
We dare not thwart Her Going, Goddess she! We arrogate no right upon Her will; we claim not to deflect Her development, to dispose of Her desires, or to determine Her destiny. She is Her own sole arbiter; we ask no more than to supply our strength to Her, whose natural weakness else were prey to the world’s pressure. Nay more, it were too zealous even to guard Her in Her Going; for She were best by Her own self-reliance to win Her own way forth!
We do not want Her as a slave; we want Her free and royal, whether Her love fight death in our arms by night, or Her loyalty ride by day beside us in the Charge of the Battle of Life.
”Let the woman be girt with a sword before me!”
”In her is all power given.”
by Aleister Crowley, excerpted from “The Law is for All”
Art by frank frazetta
She stands in the thick midst of a serene stillness,
soundlessly shrouded by the coy clouds of the short solstice night,
holding steady the reflection of a mystic light in her intense gaze…
The stars stared back at her speaking silently.
She wallowed in their wordless wonders while the moon sang a song to the sea that could only be heard by the ears of imagination.
~A. Gold, Secrets of the Solstice
" Bright spheres of heaven, firefly gleams, fair ghosts
Laugh lightly to the silver globe of night
That glitters on green fields, and on the sea
Ripples break foamless, where the golden coasts
Echo their mellow cadence. Such delight
Is on me I would fain sigh into sleep
Until my love comes forth to dream with me
Of silent words of love and peopled stars
Where we may live and love and never weep
Nor yet be weary. The last ruby bars
Are sunk beneath the sea. The shadows creep
More on me as I quicken with desire
My love is all of gold, my faith is deep
Lit with my heart’s imperishable fire.”
~ Aleister Crowley .