Invoking the Mother

Invoking the Mother

26 July 2020

Courtesy amino apps

 

She had seen it in a dream as vividly as she was now seeing the sun shining outside. It was time for the Mother to come fully into this Earth and accomplish her work from the inside. It was time for her to purge the Earth so that balance may be restored on a higher plane than what could be achieved in the present state of affairs. Mother had always been a patron of the innocent and the weak and although she presented a terrifying face to her adversaries, she reverted back to her more gentle nature when the battle was over and she was faced only with the innocent. She was a force of destruction as far as evil was concerned but maintained her motherly attributes as far as the innocent were concerned and so far too many innocent had been suffering.

 

The Mother needed a vessel to carry her consciousness and she had carefully prepared for this for several years now. The vessel needed to have a segmented mind where part of the consciousness of the Mother could be downloaded while the rest of the mind could house the consciousness of the vessel itself. She was willing to be that vessel and had meditated using the kundalini technique in order to split her own mind. Although this had been painful and not without its consequences, she reflected that it would all be worth it once the Mother was there. The Mother’s consciousness, even though in part, could only be stored in nine fragmented parts of the vessel’s mind with the vessel’s own mind dwelling in the tenth part, which is why it had taken her years to reach that level of fragmentation and dissociation without totally losing her sanity.

 

The tools used for the ceremony to invoke the Mother to complete the downloading of her consciousness into her were not unlike those used to invoke the Marid except that there was no need for a protective circle and the candles used were red and black. The red represented the blood or primordial life form and the black represented the void from which all consciousness derived. There was already a fragment of the Mother inside a part of her consciousness and this guided her in disposing the red and black candles around the circles of aging blood also known as menstrual blood and those of fresh blood from her pricked finger. She sat naked amid the circles with the trident marked in blood on her forehead and the same marked in blood around the area of her navel and started the chanting. Soon the Mother would appear and all the evil on the Earth would slowly start to disintegrate. It might take its time and would probably take its toll on her but at the end it would all be worth it.

 

Most powerful Shri Kali Sahasranama Stotram | 1008 names of Kali Maa | श्री काली सहस्त्रनाम स्तोत्रम

The lotus balanced

The lotus balanced

7 July 2020

Courtesy flickr.com

 

Without a ripple

the lotus stood on water

white on sombre green

 

A frog jumped forward

Lines formed on the water’s face

before they dwindled

 

The lotus balanced

the leaves curled around the stem

the furrows faded

 

Written in the context of Ronovan Writes weekly Haiku Challenge using the words dwindle and ripple. Rules and other contributions available here https://ronovanwrites.com/2020/07/06/weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-dwindle-ripple/

Reading of the poem:

Khalil Gibran: Farewell

Like doll on a shelf

Like doll on a shelf

30 May 2020

Courtesy Stefan Gesell

 

Icicles

Playing with my tears

Uprooted

From the trees

Falling they put soul at ease

On weather’s arrears

 

The water

The heart deranges

Fraying path

Through the veins

Its wake the mind estranges

Seasons of our pains

 

In their light

I renewed myself

No longer

Prone to flee

Circumstances that shook me

Like doll on a shelf

 

Reading of the poem:

Eurythmics – Here Comes The Rain Again (Freemasons Remix)

Desolation’s land

Desolation’s land

26 May 2020

Courtesy Stefan Gesell

 

It rises

From deep within me

Molten fire

Lava’s ash

Through mind’s eye I see them crash

The colossal waves

 

Tsunami

Riding through the coast

In my mind

I see it

More than it was meant to be

Upon the first look

 

Bodies strewn

Particles of dust

The engines

Steel and rust

The only witness that stood

Desolation’s land

 

Reading of the poem:

Dido – Hurricanes (Official Lyric Video)

The Shaman Tales 9 : the mutation

The Shaman Tales 9 : the mutation

8 May 2020

Courtesy Christian Schloe

The spell seemed to have worked. It was sent out in the collective consciousness as she knew it needed to be sent out in the open. It was more effective with being read and she knew that she had to inspire herself three years ago from then. She had slid into the timeloop during her altered state of consciousness and inspired herself back in 2017. She had then watched as she created the poem that would provoke the onslaught of what was happening just now. She knew it had to be done. The flu had to be released into the world because the end effect was the mutation that needed to happen. This was the only way that they could resist what GAIA had in store for them. Their lungs needed to mutate into one lung, breathing in a completely different way than how it had breathed up to now.

 

As with every time she projected herself into the past with the altered consciousness, everything went haywire for her in the present. Devoid of her consciousness, the brain alone was not able to function normally and was clouded by the overwhelming synapse points where the memories were being mixed into the present state of being. The past, the present and the future seemed to all merge into one apocalyptic moment and she could see the waters engulf the land as well as see the ice age that was to follow the overheating of the planet. All those thoughts raced into her head like realities that presented themselves to her. She could see all of it happening as if it were happening in front of her eyes. Meanwhile, her consciousness was inspiring her in the past to create the worded intention and put out the magic spell into the collective consciousness.

 

Her consciousness saw the words and at the same time saw them manifesting. It was a flu alright, but it was a flu that needed to fundamentally change the human body. Like every time there was a significant shift in the Earth requiring a shift in consciousness and in the bodies, it was always done through a flu or some other pandemic. Her consciousness was then satisfied by what was released and came back to her in the present, right in the nick of time before her mind would go into overdrive with all the stimuli and shut itself out forever. The flu was not as deadly as the Spanish flu before it but they seemed to be afraid of it even more. They called it covid-19 and treated it like it was an enemy. Little did they know that they had to go through the process of catching it in order to mutate. If they did not mutate, they would not be able to survive the shift that GAIA was preparing for them. It had had to be done despite the thousands of deaths. They must all catch the flu to avoid humanity becoming extinct on the planet once GAIA’s program had come into place…

 

Dead Can Dance “Yulunga” 2005

Plains of the free lie

Plains of the free lie

26 April 2020

Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

Do you hear

The ocean shaken

It stirs blood

Through the flood

By the waves I awaken

On grounds mistaken

 

Emptiness

Of the chest that heaves

Fallen tree

Crestfallen

Gathering the flailing leaves

The mind soul deceives

 

Look yonder

Plains of the free lie

They rumble

With the cries

The millions’ uneven sigh

Their dreams fly in sky

 

Reading of the poem:

Emel Mathlouthi – Naci en Palestina آمال مثلوثي

Ocean greets me kin

Ocean greets me kin

24 March 2020

 

This is not a play

Tragedy nor comedy

This is a life’s toil

 

I splatter the drops

The waters in rivulets

Aspire for bay

 

Ocean greets me kin

Movement of waves like my skin

A body of clay

 

 

Reading of the poem:

 

Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly Haiku 298 using the words bay and play. For rules and more poems follow this link.

 

Gurdjieff – De Hartmann Vol 12: Prière Pour La Miséricorde, Alain Kremski

Peach in him

Peach in him

5 December 2019

Courtesy youtube.com

 

Wasted time
A circus that wound
Colours blind
To the Grey
A path leads under waters
Thundering in skies

Hark to tell
What ears comprehend
Through the well
Of light streams
Stories uninterrupted
In the mind that flies

The lips spell
Tonalities fused
Peach in him
Orange hue
Cobblers mend uneven shoe
One a pair of none

 

Memories – Maroon 5

Children face the light

Children face the light

23 September 2018

 

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pinterest.com

 

 

Blackbirds in mind swirl

Loud cries’ strident pillars felt

Weight in my tear ducts

 

Soulless creatures crawl

In the dark alleys some breathe

Agony in mind

 

Sun bursts in sockets

Jasmine withers in heatwave

Known features dwindle

 

Windows carry floods

From peaks to valleys we drop

Blood from the Elders

 

Crimson my waters

Morrow’s seasons shook in tides

Wavelength scorches sight

 

Dark eyes starry pools

Small hands tools of forgiveness

Children face the light

 

Reading of the poem: 

The sky is crying – Gary BB Coleman

The Shaman tales 1: No rain

The Shaman tales 1: No rain

29 January 2018

christian-schloe pinterest com 29 -sense-of-night-1370333733_org
Courtesy Christian Schloe on pinterest.com

She paused and looked at the clouds forming. They had been seeding them in hope of getting rain but she planned otherwise. Using the old conjuring of spirits of dry, she danced wildly invoking desert drought and parched lands. The land was cool from the winter winds but the skies grew clear of clouds and the dust flew in the air filling people’s chests. After all they had done to her, she vowed to not let the rains bless their lands until she received what they had taken away from her. They had thought her to be a mere vessel that they could lull back to sleep, not realising that within her the powers of the Shamans of old were reignited. She had rediscovered within her the spirits of the lineage of Shamans that went back to time immemorial when she had danced in Machu Pichu her senses blazing from the Ayahuasca brew.

Every time the clouds gathered she willed the weather back to that of dried lands. She had been in public once though and could not stop the rains from falling as she could not break into the dance of flames. As soon as she could, that one time it had rained, she had hurried back home and willed the rain to stop. Her eyes blazed with the fire of the phoenix rising within her and scorching the pelting rain to vapour before it had stilled it and reduced the clouds to small cotton balls in the sky. Hers was not a mere revenge but a mission she embarked upon with all the vigor and will of those who had been coarsely and negligently wronged.

During the nights, she spoke to the spirits of the rain and pacified them, letting them know that they could visit sites nearby where they could flow all their ardour into the lands. In her altered state she took them by the hand and guided them to locations that would either benefit from rain or where she wanted to wreck havoc in vengeance, taking them far away from where her physical body was lying. They danced through the desert skies, high above the clouds and making sure not to come into contact with these latter so that they would not be charged and wet the lands with their content. Every time she danced with those spirits, her astral body sizzled with the intermingling of the flames of the phoenix and the waters of the spirits of the rain. The result was a trail of mist and steam that onlookers identified in the sky as a streak similar to that of a wishing star. Together they danced right over Paris and other European cities before returning to the place where her body dwelt. Once the dances over, she resettled back into her body and slept a sleep riddled with dreams of the Mother.

 

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