Tag Archives: Alone with my soul

Artemis

Artemis, also known as Diana, is a Greek Goddess of the Moon whose roots extend back to Her time as a many-breasted mother goddess. We know her better as the maiden Huntress who lives in the forest with her band of young girls (the Arktoi) and her totem animals of Deer and Dog. As a virgin goddess, she is whole unto herself and teaches us to live our wild, instinctive nature, and at the same time, honor our sisterhood.

THE PLAYER OF THE VOID

The Owl flies at night

Brings good luck to the player of the void

(Owl Song)

 

If you go where no man goes

You find what no man finds

He’s moving on like an Owl in the night

The player of the void

 

He sees at night, a diamond shining bright

The player of the void

He falls to the Earth, to kiss it on the lips

Then soars back to the sky

 

You’re here I know, been here all my life, waiting by the door

To the land of the shining silver plain, on the other side

 

He knows his pain is the cracking of his shell

And faces night with day

To face the dark with faith and grace

To live the passion play

 

He flies at night

The player of the void

And waits outside my door

© 1997 Martin H. Wilde

MIRACLE MILE

Darkness all around me like a Crocodile
I’ve seen it all my life (it only smiles)
Look to the light within to keep it at bay
“The journey’s within” they always say

I call her on the telephone, hoping that she’s home
Her eyes stare through me, green arrows down my spine
Like a cat watching a rabbit from a fence
Always there in time….

Walking on the miracle mile again
Walking on the miracle mile again
Walking on the miracle mile again, like an English boy
Walking on the miracle mile again

Shove off he says, I’ll catch you
I love you, you know I trust you
You’re all I want; you’re all I am
I’ll lay here in this haze like I am

Like a staircase winding out of sight (I’m looking at heaven’s door)
Don’t hear Daddy’s footsteps anymore
Laying on the floor in a drunken stupor
On the bottom step…(I know)

I’m walking on the miracle mile again
Banging on the miracle mile again
Walking on the miracle mile again
Looking for you like a long lost friend

A street I’ve been on long before
Streams of humanity, traffic signals pushing through
I’m in mauling, scrawling, crawling, pawing
War-torn human hell

A woman cries, She’s crying out my name
But I’m too far away to talk to her
I see her down a gentle grade, a shiny sparkling surface
Like a slide to hell, soaked in rain… (and I set out)

Walking on the miracle mile again
She’s standing there waving to me like a long lost friend
Don’t know what it means, don’t think I care
I keep walking on down the miracle mile again

Walking on the miracle mile again
She’s screaming to me like a long lost friend
Sitting on a milk crate selling all her wares
To anyone who works and can pay the price

I remember you, I trust you, I love you
You’re all I am, all I want, it’s always been
Like a flashlight in a cave, outside heavens gate
Oh, darkness separate…

Have another cup of coffee in the morning
Then go on back to bed……

© 1993 Martin H. Wilde

The Authentic Offering

Communion with the Great Primal Other is made possible through an authentic sacrifice or offering. It is not necessary that the offering be perfect, but it is essential that the offering is authentic.

The authentic offering makes it possible to move from literal space to ritual space. It is in ritual space that the Great Primal Other can provide the energy that powers the spiritual transformation.

THE LIE OF ROMANCE

Of all the lies we’re fed
on which we gorge in our comfort-addicted world,
none is more insidious than the lie of romance,
the seductive but infantile notion
that somewhere there exists
someone to complement us in every way
someone who will make us complete.

Of course,
this illusion keeps us
from ever being complete in and of ourselves,
and eventually encourages us
to despise our shortcomings, our flaws,
everything in which our humanity lies.

Our humanity, without which, of course,
we are nothing.

A TEAR AND A SMILE

I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.

I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.

A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding
Of life’s secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and
To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.

A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.

I would rather that I died in yearning and longing
Than that I live weary and despairing.

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the
Depths of my spirit,for I have seen those who are
Satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

With evening’s coming the flower folds her petals
And sleeps, embracingher longing.
At morning’s approach she opens her lips to meet
The sun’s kiss.

The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.

The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come
Together and area cloud.

And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys
Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping
To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home.

The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.

And so does the spirit become separated from
The greater spirit to move in the world of matter
And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow
And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death
And return whence it came.

To the ocean of Love and Beauty—-to God.

==Kahlil Gibran

The Dark Forest

Subjective reality is largely based on fear and desire, objective reality is an expanding awareness revealed through actions of faith, open-minded exploration and the ensuing experiences.

I have sat in a cell that has an open door, in a penitentiary that has been closed down and is no longer manned by any guards, all because of my fear of walking out into the undefined, uncontrollable and unknown.

The Dark forest

DIRTY DOGS LAUGHING

Open up your chests
You broadcasters of truth
You Dirty Dogs

Fill the stage
With thundering laughs
Reciprocal volleys
In wakes of aftermath

The urgency of intimate telling
Casts off the bars of obedience
Creates the love the soul is yearning
Potentiates the sorrow of loss

Intimacy is a flame
Hot as sex
It fuses out
And blows away

Must all intimacy end
And die as does life and love?
To ensure that the only constant remains?
Truth with self

© 2015 Martin H Wilde