The Joy of Beauty

Let me start by apologising for my absence. Several reasons have caused this, one being technical – we were without internet access for some days. Thankfully, as you can see, that issue is now resolved. I am in the process of catching up with my dear blogging friends – so i haven’t forgotten anyone, and Yes I am still here and active! I hope you enjoy the following piece – and as ever, Blessings be 🙂

The flowers stand half-dead, accusing me from their stand on the mantel-piece. The water is drained, their stems browned, their vibrant colours faded. Wilted and abandoned, they seem to say, you don’t care- you never cared, and you never will. The once red rose faces directly toward me, as if reaching, beseeching. Nothing left now, of its original beauty, only a visual sign that Ugliness comes all too quickly if we do not pay attention to Beauty: If we do not look after Her, care for Her, watch out for Her.

Yes, Ugliness so quickly, easily takes Her place – decay slides in as if to say, This is all, in the end. This, I, is what all shall come to. So what point in fussing, preening, pruning, trying maintaining, all for Beauty?  – When I will win, anyway? Like Death, ahnd in hand with death, I come. I always come.

But wait – see – the yellow flowers are not quite dead: their heads are up still, their solid, butter-coloured heads remain proud, undiminished by the rose defeated, next to them.

Yellow flowers of Gazania rigens

Yellow flowers of Gazania rigens (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Ah, to see their strength, pride and Beauty! THIS is why we do not give in to decay! Beauty is not just a transitory thing that is in the end lost – no, it is much more than that: Beauty GIVES us pride, a sense of joy and pleasure to look upon such a thing. And that sense of pleasure and joy can give us an inner strength. To feel good inside is to bolster one’s self in every way, including strength of mind, and strength of feeling. This, this is the reason why Beauty should be maintained for as long as possible. This is the reason why decay should be stayed, and not given into, not so easily sliding towards, with its promising whispers suggesting… decay is the Death of all things, it will not stop once it has started, it is jealous and will cling to anything it can get its dirty, dank, fetid claws on.

But Beauty – ah Beauty! – Is life. It reminds us- I am hard work – you must look after me most carefully if you want to get the absolute best out of me. Work diligently, and I will work for you – I will be a source of pride, joy, strength and reward.

Only that which must be worked for is worth having and worth keeping. Only that which requires effort, thought and attention is worth doing. And that which is done with quality, with love, with patient time…

Is Beautiful.


Before I Was A Life

Lilith/Rei looks to the sky, pulled by the Ear...

Lilith/Rei looks to the sky, pulled by the Earth’s gravity, and cradles the Egg of Lilith which absorbed the souls of all human beings. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Hovering, floating, being.
In a place of darkness, like space, but isn’t space. Blacker than black, a velvety nothingness; interspersed by thousands of bright shining pin-points like stars, but not stars, us. Silver, golden, blue, purple – all hovering, floating, being.
No bodies, no minds as such. Thought-forms undulate around and between us, our collective conscious knowing each other, knowing our very beings, our very thoughts. If thoughts we can be said to have.

Miles and miles away this being watches a sphere, a sphere so full of intriguing life. It is so far away it is but another glowing dot, but in another place. Yet this being can see it as clear as if it were all happening right here, right next to this watcher.
The sphere has so many interesting things happening! Water and air and fire and earth… creatures and more than creatures, those corporeal beings who race through a life seemingly so short yet so full of events, of emotions, of LIFE. This being watches, fascinated, seeing Joy and Love and Despair and Hope and humans being born and dying, and everything in-between. They go through so much, these corporeal beings, they live so much! Endlessly racing, hoping, loving, crying, dying. So much to feel – those emotions that fill them up and make them do things and feel things – and the sun on their faces and air in their hair and grass and rocks and earth underfoot and water streaming over them… This being is transfixed, feeling a pull, wanting to know what all those things feel like. How does the sun feel? How do tears feel? To have a baby? To laugh? To love? To swim? Pain? Misery? To die?

This being is eager. 90 years, is that all? This being projects. 90 years! This being will be back, hovering, floating, being, in no ‘time’ at all! It is nothing, this 90 years of human life. How long has this being been here, watching? Unknown, there is no ‘time’ here. Here is here, forever ‘Now’. But – To experience Human-ness, to FEEL, to understand, to know….

ARE YOU SURE THIS IS WHAT YOU WANT? It projects. The being over and above all shining star-like beings, the Us. The being who rules the rules; The Wyrd; the divinity; the One that keeps all this working, being.
Yes! Yes! I can do this!
No! No! Wait! It’s not as simple as that! Cries the collective conscious. This being knows better – of course it is! What could be more simple? The Human-beings know nothing of the Us, the Rules, the Being-here. They just live their lives in emotion and feeling and physicality – what could be more simple? This being wants to be part of that, to understand it. Only 90 years, it won’t take this being long to fulfil that life.
Edging toward the sphere, excited, pulsing, there is a pull, this being feels it… there is a body being conceived, waiting, waiting for this being…

Yes. The Agreement. The things to adhere to. The things to agree to, in the human life-form. The things this ‘I’ must learn. It’s fine.
This being will remember. Will try to remember. How hard can it be?
The Agreement is made. The path this one’s life must take. The hardships this being agrees to partake in. the lessons of life this being must go through. The relationships and interactions.
Looking, eagerly, for the right parents. The right pair of human-beings to teach this life-form the Agreed lessons, good or ill.
Good or ill? What matters it? It’s all feeling, that’s what this being wants – to feel. Alive! To be alive!
We – this being and the Other; the Rule, the Wyrd, together we find the right Parents. Yes, Perfect! They are perfect.
This being projects a distracted yes, focussing only on the Life. The Parents. That which is about to be. This being knows what will happen if it forgets the Agreement, or does it wrong. This being will not come back here for a very long time. Yet this seems such a trivial thing – how could a being forget in a 90 year span? Such a short time! This being will ensure it gets as much Living as possible done, to feel and do and be everything that is possible in this span! There is no danger. There is no danger-

Flying towards the sphere now – eagerly, as quick as this ‘I’ can go – yes, already I can feel the ‘I’, not of the Us anymore, eagerly to my new home, waiting, down there, on that Earth –
Don’t go! You don’t understand! They project, as I fly past them, barely noticing their shining lights. I laugh, I scorn them. How can you not want to go? I ask Them rashly.
We know! We remember! Listen to us!
Yes, It is done! I tell Them. I will be back soon- and I will tell you how it feels!
They fall silent, defeated, those shining beings, those non-corporeal consciousness’, they let me go, I am no longer One of Them.
The body – I feel it, waiting for me – soon, soon Life will be mine, sweet life and feeling and I will know and understand and I will remember-
I will-
Warm. Watery. Dark. Voices. Comfort.


Is It Just Me? (they don’t look like this in the magazines)



Is it just me or does my bum look too big?
Is it just me or am I too fat? I need to lose weight!
Is it just me or is my hair a mess?
Is it just me or do my clothes never fit quite right?
Is it just me or is my face too pale?
With too many lines and a nose slightly off centre,
With a too-round chin and bags under my eyes
My eyebrows need fixing, my nails doing, my top lip waxing!
It must be just me: they don’t look like this on the television
Or in the magazines, not a wrinkle round their eyes nor
On their foreheads;
Their hair always immaculate and clothes just perfectly
It must be just me-how to make that ‘perfect body’ mine?
Oh good grief look at her: What does she think she looks like –
Has she no pride?
She could have made an effort, her kids must be so ashamed!
Look at him, has he no fashion-sense?
He could have brushed his hair and bought some decent shoes!
Who does she think she is, in those shiny high heels and short skirt,
Just asking for attention if you ask me,
Some kind of super-star or model wannabe.
Look at him thinking he’s God gift to women, with that sharp
Hair-cut and flashing the cash like there’s no tomorrow!
Honestly! What is wrong with everyone?
Oh look-my favourite celeb programme’s on BBC1…

Bricked up and locked up

This heart lays heavy upon my breast, like a burden held inside of me: like a metal forged chain wrapped around this heart and weighting it down, pulling on it. I can feel the cold, cold metal, squeezing the warmth out of this bright red heart, see the large unbreakable chain links…

From whence did this come, this heavy chain, this burden, this weight? Out of nowhere it has sprung; I see it in my mind’s eye, feel it in my chest, pulling on me, making me cold…
My walls are up, sudden, complete, with no doing from me… they are there, protecting me from the world, blocking me from the world, blocking me from my emotions, my love….

It is my doing. Not now, oh, not now – they have arisen of their own accord… but who created them, all those years ago? A hurt teenager, thinking to protect herself from emotional harm… oh, too good! You were too good at Imaginative thinking! Inherent Witchery, your given power, the Power of Thought… your blessing, your Gift, becomes your Curse, for you did not think ahead, you did not know what you were creating! And now that brick wall that served you so well for a time, keeping you away from everything that could harm, letting nothing through either way… now – it was so well built, that it springs up without conscious thought, without need, sheltering you when no shelter is needed: I need the Growing Oak of love and learning… but my Wall is too strong, built with solid Thought foundations.

And I peek out from that wall, through its narrow eye slit, with flat dull eyes, flat dull lips, flat dull emotions, a flat dull heart… beating away ‘gainst that cold metal chain. I don’t remember forging that but who else to blame? No-one, no-one, I must look to myself…

I am living in shades of grey when I crave sunshine and blue skies.

I feel the Bodhisattva inside of me, that Spirit that I vowed to be, calling, yearning: My Spirit beseeches me… Be Strong! Break free! I am you and you are I…
But I cannot reach her. She is far, deep inside. She is split from the me that is here – that chain, that wall, keeping us separate, keeping my feelings and my heart base, keeping me in two-dimensional thinking and feeling.I want to reach my Bodhisattva – but I cannot break free: I have done my work to well, for reasons as yet unfathomable to me.

I am bricked up and Locked up:
chained and bound.

  • For the Poem version of this theme, please visit:


The Gift of Silence



I have been struggling recently with my words. I have wanted to blog, and have had plenty of thoughts, images, and abstract ideas – but nothing definite and everything elusive. Why? I thought to myself. When there is plenty whirling around my head, why am I having trouble putting it into a cohesive idea; story; poem?
And just the other day, I realised what it was:

Yes – Silence.
I – my mind – wants silence. It doesn’t want to create right now: I have spent a lot of time writing, creating and crafting ideas and poems.
I have also spent a lot of time reading – I am deep into the final Joran/Sanderson ‘Wheel of Time’ book, and am relishing every page, every word – and yet, this is more words I am absorbing.
And, of course, I have a 4 year old daughter who LOVES to talk – so I am spending my words with her.
It seems that something inside me has decided that I have used up all of my words and right now, it wants…. Silence.

Silence is precious. We rarely use it. Background television; radio; on our phones, talking or texting; talking in company, socialising or at work… we surround ourselves with people and technology, words words words.
When do we stop? When do we delight in that time of just be-ing? Not thinking, not struggling with words, not composing – in writing or talking, but just…
Silence. Pure silence. It is amazing what Silence can do for you:

She sits, like a close friend long absent, nestling comfortably close, not speaking (of course), just being, with you. You are comfortable in Her company; you realise words are not needed. You do not need to do anything. You can relax fully totally, just be in the moment…

And a wonderful thing happens: positivity; contentedness; thoughts that had been hard to obtain become clear; problems turn into solutions.
In the company of Silence, you find… Yourself. You had lost yourself, in the hustle and bustle of everyday, in pleasing others, in being diplomatic, in being strong, in being a ‘label’, the Inside You was dissolving…
And your good friend Silence brings You back. You are fully yourself again. And, hopefully, a happy you.
Without words, Silence has done what only a best friend can. She has restored you. And, Her job completed, gently She departs, knowing She will be back with you again… sooner or later… when you remember what a good friend She is.
So here is my offering to you today, dear readers and, dare I say, friends. Not words. Not cleverness or crafting. I offer you all that I can, and I hope it is enough. I offer you:

Blessings be

  • Picture: ‘Silence’ card from the Osho Zen Tarot.

Spider of Destiny

A golden web is being spun, in the background, shadowed. The Spider of Destiny, golden and corpulent, weaves her Web – especially for you.
Unique, individual: as your life flows and the choices you make – furiously She weaves, twitching the Web here and tweaking it there, to compensate. The Pattern of your life to be read in Her busy, delicate threading.
The blind get caught in her sticky making, fastening you to Her determined intention until you have learned that strand’s lesson – and then you are released: shaken, unharmed – maybe – how hard did you fight? Did you hurt yourself in Her shining light, Her golden Web, dawning bright in your mind and heart and soul?
Do you see Her, beautiful, terrifying, as she weaves and threads, spinning and spinning?
Does she frighten you, knitting and flitting in rhythmic circumstance?
Is she radiant or ghastly in her Spider-like dance?

Golden Orb Spider

Golden Orb Spider (Photo credit: Mamboman1)

Spider of Destiny,
Weaving your Golden Web-
I see you, spinning each separate thread.
Let me dance with you,
Learn your ways,
Let me walk unharmed
Through your threaded maze.
Let us be friends, you and I,
That I might look with joy upon
The completed pattern when I die.

What type of Mage would you be?

Another fun question for you…

Some time ago, I came up with the beginnings of a book – one of many. As I love fantasy, this particular book was going to be based within that genre. I listed and detailed the concept of Mages in my story. Now, I am aware that this is not particularly original, but linked in with the rest of the ideas, I’m hoping it is original enough! Below is an excerpt of my story plan, and I thought I would post it here for some light-hearted reading. So, if you like fantasy, or the idea of being a mage with elemental powers at your command, then:

which of the following would you be – or like to be?


AIR (East) air magic; wind, weather, the air itself.
Power/talent with creatures of the air, also whisperings on the wind. The night sky, shadows – Darkness.

FIRE (South) fire magic; use of Sun energy, volcanoes, flames, heat. Physical energy and Action.

WATER (West) water magic; rain, lakes and seas etc. Direction of Sensitivities and Healing. Talent with sea creatures.

EARTH (North) earth magic; the earth itself, land, forests, plants.
Power/Talent with land creatures. Also Depths and Darkness. Revivng/ nurturing.

ETHER (Centre): To see the Otherworld clearly.
Control/power/ability with the Otherworld. Empathic, Psychic, Destiny-seeing, Dream-weaving.

 These are the Elements with which the Mages are gifted. There is dark as well as Light; they are balanced and cannot be one without the other. Dark magic is encompassed within the Mages Circle, and those who find themselves gifted in such a way are long trained how to use its power appropriately and effectively, so that the darkness does not take over and Turn the Soul.

Some Mages find they are gifted with two powers; and are known as Geminis. One always dominates though. Earth and Water, for example. The power of the two Elements mixed depends from Mage to Mage; varying powers have manifested through the same combinations of Elements.


The personality of mages tend to hold a common bond to each House, or Element of the Mages Power. Each House or Elemental Mage can be compacted to the following traits… like reading a Horoscope!
FIRE mages tend to be determined, enthusiastic and/or stubborn people, with a will of iron. They are usually practical, quick thinkers, problem solvers, although not always flexible to the ideas of others – especially when they believe they are right. Their gaze is intense, full of heat, daring you almost. They are not big on imagination or drama. With the rare exception (as there is to every rule) fire mages like, and more to the point, thrive in the sun. They are miserable and weak without sun energy, and thus need to be in hot, sunny places for their physical, spiritual and mental health. They are usually restless people, moving on to new things easily without regret or loss, but also will be the first to spring into action whenever and wherever it is needed. The Fire Elemental is the governance of Warrior mages – not all, but most Warrior mages are fire mages.

EARTH mages are also quite practical, when faced with something they consider a challenge, but can also be darker and deeper other Elemental mages. Their emotions go deep, but they have a strong ability to hide or closet them, leaving their face and thoughts unreadable. Their eyes are dark; dark green, hazelnut to earth brown, and their gaze appears deep, deep as the earth, as if trying to draw you down to the depths. It is intense, seeming considering and thoughtful. Earth element tends to throw up more Dark mages than any other element – because of its deep, dark depths and wild places. Seducers, clever manipulators, they can be as cold as the winterland, or as lively and free as a spring meadow. Earth mages like to go wandering alone, keeping their own company, spending significant time in (hopefully) lonely forests, mountains and afore-mentioned wild places. They can nurture, protect and heal, but also suffocate, pulling down to the borders of the grave. Earth magic is the governance for producing witches; mages who go to remote villages etc., and use Nature magic. Witches generally are the mages who like to get right back to basics, and lead a simple and generally lonely but happy life.

WATER mages are as emotional as the seas; light-hearted, frivolous, stormy, quickly gets over anger. They are helpful people, gentle and thoughtful – when they are not being frivolous! Their power to heal is the best of all the Elemental mages. Their eyes vary in colour from stormy grey, light clear blue to ocean blue and through greens as well. Their gaze, just as intense as the others, is clearer and sharp, like ice. They can become too serious sometimes, and given to dark thoughts. Water Elemental produces a few dark mages. These people tend to be good with the emotions and feelings of others, but not good on the practical side. Because of their sensitivity, water mages can also make good witches – as long as they have mastered their high emotions.

AIR mages are thoughtful, gentle, light-hearted and generally happy go lucky. They tend to be fairly wise, and can be practical as well as open-minded and creative. They are adept at curing and creating Illusion and dispelling Bewitching spells. However, the Shadows and their power therein also means that quite a few Dark mages are produced by this element. Air and Darkness: the Fear of shadows, of whispered schemes, of Nocturnal Hunters. Their eyes range from clear to mid blue and cloudy grey. Their gaze is inescapable, almost inviting you and moving through you like a chill winter wind. Air mages tend to take mediating roles, and are the official Mage Ambassadors to the rest of the Official world – because of their balanced, open attitude and high intellignce.

ETHER mages tend to be quiet, introverted, and slightly unnerving, even by mage standards. They often seem unaware of the world around them, but when they do bring their attention to bear, it is full; intense, total. They are natural psychics, dream-weavers, empaths and so on. Other Elemental mages may have some or even all of these powers, but not so strong, as intense and total as the Ether mages. They have a vagueness about them, even amongst the other Elemental mages. They are the Arcane Studiers, and guide the council in decisions, where they can – where they have had a vision, or sign in some manner. They read and interpret ancient scrolls and omens, the stars, the Divine Energy from which all Elemental magic springs. They commune in a way that is unsurpassed, and seem ‘lighter’ for it; no matter how dark the skin, hair, eyes and general aura start off, years of Divine Communion lightens the whole being. Ether mages all appear ethereal. Ether Elemental rarely produces a Dark mage. When it does, Historical changes can be made. They are powerful, deep, iron-willed individuals with unsurpassed powers of magic. Each Dark Ether mage has been noted in history for their extraordinary deeds, and the heroic effort it took to bring them down. The Council of the past ages have alternatively tried training and harnessing a Dark Ether mage – disastrous – and totally destroying them through various means. No matter at what stage of youth they tried it – i.e. as soon as the powers manifested, the Dark Ether mage had enough natural inner ability to avoid danger. Wild Dark Ether mages were far worse than ones who had been Academy trained and cared for, so this was the current policy. Though a Dark Ether mage had not turned up for nigh on one hundred years.

SO…. would you control power, or be Gemini? Would you be a Light mage, or Dark… a Dark Gemini, even? Or Dark Ether mage?

I hope you had fun!


Lady Time

Her face is pale; thin, strong, implacable. Her eyes, ice blue. Her gaze fixes, but does not see you. Her hair is long and silken – now raven black, now pure white, and every shade between. Her stride is steady – neither fast nor slow, but continuous: adamantly, unstoppably, She continues, Her soft footfalls echo in your mind as She forever moves on. Her gown is long, graceful, trailing delicately behind Her, the ends whispering upon your feet as she forever… moves on.

Stop! You say: Wait! Please wait! But She does not – She cannot – wait. Why should She, for a mere mortal? What are you, to Her who is eternity?
Time! I need more time! If only I had more time… and, for an instant, it looks like Time may pause: She slows, barely, Her head cocked as if listening, as if She heard – but no, her foot falls again to the next step, forever moving on. You must keep up with Her, not Her with you. Occasionally her pace does change – occasionally She does slow, hesitate, pause… and occasionally she hastens, rushing forward, speeding up – for what reason only She knows. Not for your whim, certainly. Not for your pleading – She is not a Goddess to heed prayers, but a force of Her own reckoning and the impact of Her change of pace leaves an indelible mark on us, who must always be in Her presence.

Time: friend, and enemy. Love Her, hate Her – She does not care. An indolent, an insolent, smile upon Her lips as She passes by you, seemingly mocking your meagre thoughts, your paltry prayers.
Time is the friend of children: She grants them eternity in their play, their time to grow, the long summers and endless Christmases, the ability to forget – and maybe forgive – hurts. She gives favour, too, to those in the teenage years: wisdom, out of childhood, without the responsibility of adulthood. The eagerness and ambition of Youth’s Dream – She gives them all this, if only they can recognise it; grasp it; use the gift of Time.
And then… She moves on. You were that child; you were that youth… why should She grant yet more favour to you, the adult? Go with Her wisely – for She will not wait, not ever.

Will you grasp Her hand, and walk side by side with Her, or battle Her, fighting to the bitter end? How can you win? How can you ever win? She is Time, eternal. She does not notice your desperate attempts, your vain ministrations, to turn back the clock.
The mistakes you make are your own – not Hers to rewind. Will you move forward as She does? Or spend your life clinging to the hem of Her gown, attempting to reverse the irreversible?

I will not grow old! I will do everything – everything! – to stay youthful! Time will not beat me! Time smiles – that knowing, cold, impersonal smile – for She knows that there is no beating, no winning – there is only Time. And She marches onward, unstoppably, implacably onward. All the battles, are of course, eventually lost, and you scream, your life a misery, dwelling in lost youth and lost beauty, cursing Time – time and again.
But those who grow old with dignity, who grow old gracefully; looking forward, not back, looking at the time She gave you, and realising the gift She has given you – those who relish the crinkles around their eyes, and what greying hair means; those who understand that time departed is memory, hurt and sore, departed; those are the ones who can look Time in the eye when their Time comes, and as long lost friends greeting each other – those are the ones who can say with pride, as Time grips their hand warmly, the lips now friendly, Her eyes sparkling, seeing you for the first time, as you slip out of Her grip, and it is you who moves forward without Her, with the understanding of Time:
I have won.


What is this piece? Just a short piece I wrote, story-esque but obviously not a complete story. What is it about? A good question… What do YOU want it to be about it? How do YOU interpret it? However you do, I hope you enjoy the writing, and I hope it conjures up something to you 🙂

English: Storm Clouds Gathering

English: Storm Clouds Gathering (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Come! Come all you Wild ones, gather you in order, marshal your greatest force! Brimming with Chaos, now is the time for action. Bubbling with eagerness, now is the time for calm surety. Be not hasty nor rash, but calm, stately, as befits your kind.
Now you are truly united, one mind instead of a hundred, a thousand. One mind that can see all the pieces, their part in the Pattern.
Now you are truly great. Now you are truly free. Release your forces! Unleash your power! My Wild ones, let the whole world see your beauty, your strength.
Do you hear the steady beat of drums? Do you sense the storm, rising from the West? Do you hear the heartbeat of the world, paused at your Gathering, waiting for your next move?
A slight rain falls, drizzling morosely over you, but what thoughts have you for weather? The slate grey sky that bleeds all colour from the surrounding life cannot drain your heart, your spirit. Your duty is too stern for that; your course resolute. You will not be deterred now, come flood or fire, Hell or high water.
Be brave, my newly united ones! Be brave, but merciful – we are not savages, arrogant and aggressive. Be tolerant, patient, still always resolved, undaunted in your mission.
The time is now, the time is nigh. Savour this, the intake of breath before the world breathes out; that gap in sound just before the thunder; that single, solitary moment before the world is born, letting out its wailing cry at its birth into life.
Come, my brave ones! All that has gone before, all that was, has led you up to this moment, prepared and primed for this very time, and now, now my brave ones, we will see if your actions belie the conviction of your eyes.


Lilith vs. the Angel

I’m not quite sure what ‘type’ of writing this fits into: Is it a poem? I think so, but it wasn’t initially written as a poem, just as a general piece of writing. However, it turned into a poem as I was writing it, hence I have categorised it as a ‘poem’ as well as a ‘Random Writing’ piece, because I think it fits into both. Either way, whatever it ‘really’ is… I hope you enjoy it for the writing and the sentiment!


TaiJi (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

John Collier - Lilith

John Collier – Lilith (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lilith and the Angel.
Passion vs. Serenity.
Will vs. Compassion.
Fire vs. the White Light.
Independence vs. Love.
Who will win?
Eternal Battle? – Internal Battle?
Gentle Life or unashamed Sin?
Yield to the glory of the Flaming Sword
Release all desire, passionate expression your reward.
Meditation of the Mind or expression of desire –
Follow your heart.
What if your heart two paths tread? –
Is that possible or is it only mind games
That you, alone, elect?
Lilith vs. the Angel –
The warp and weave of my soul –
Flowing one then to the other
Like a Yin-Yang arrow.
But is this bow Cupid’s,
Or Diana’s dynamic spear-thrust?
Who can tell in the mesh
Of this mortal-made stuff?



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