Song of Ma’at to Gaia

Flames fly higher and higher in tremendous Mystery
In primordial history long forgotten by humanity;
And the chants, dances, incense from dried plants,
And trances beyond the naked eye to spy the reality
Of the numinous, the spirit world wholly unfurled,
~ shocking always, unnerving, swerving undeserving
Soul into netherworld ~ and therein lies worshipping
Of all-too-real realities unknown to most born now,
And how, but by blindness of mind, binding of heart
From the very start; we are incredulous, not sedulous
For care of our own inner person, whether a sinner
Or no; but there were saints who wore sacred paint,
Touched the hem of garments of gods and goddesses,
Reached for the very sun at night with an holy fright,
To see the light of heaven on earth, place of birth,
To join in the mirth of nymphs and sprites and angels
. . . and are we to blame for the dying flame? Who will
Rekindle the burning, churning fire of desire of soul?
Will she come ~ magna Messiam ~ to some or to all
To rescue again from the Fall, stand tall and enthrall,
Offer breast of life to suckle, best of body and blood
As food and drink to pull us back finally from brink
Of foolish self-destruction and induction into an hell
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ of our own making?

Ah! Will flames fly high again in tremendous Mystery
In our history not to be again forgotten by humanity?

Öyle olsun! Öyle olsun! Öyle olsun!

 

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