.theurgy.

Are you not the Bright One , lo

The fountain crest

Dipping toes, something inside

Inside

World cohort, crypt keeper

Secret sewer

Rumbling thunder

Tripping fumbling,

& Coughing

Clouds of dust out this weary mouth

Nothing offered measures up

Like a waif sprite skeleton

Dung and stars strung to human form

We are

Directed by the subtle

Electric

Current of this earth

Each day we wake,

new birth From comfort cushion

Veiled states, to revelation

Mother morning pushes forth

the crowning head of sun

Rey, son, ray

A diurnal entry from nocturnal retreat

But what of those born in darkness?

On moonless nights does silence birth silence?

& for those whose rhythm creates syncopation—

Offbeat—

… what distaste they sew in sum

Upon mid night, comes  release

Blessing of the sacral scrape.

sacred blessing

Ichial spines

don

The crown initiate.

Into night a new form

‘Free’

Is this celebration lesser?

Messy afterbirth of dreams

Some clean, some care

& Some consume,

others leave to degrade

That which once sustained.

Only in spaces liminal can it be fathomed

 to make use of al iksir.

The philosophers stone rests heavy

in the womb of women