Medea

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Nature

A little flower in the early a.m. dew. Moist, humid and silky, Petals drenched from the waters of the moon. Impenetrable. I see within these flowers something akin to a “Sleeping Beauty” who is crying out in Her sleep, in Her “Glass Coffin“, for some Hero to come and “awaken Her“, to “bring Her back to Life“. It is not the beauty of the flower that the Initiate seeks. The Initiate must seek the Essence of the flower. The Center. The integral aroma. The BE-ing. As deep as utterly possible. As deep as a being can possibly Be. The need to crawl inside the flower whilst the flower is, without cognition, screaming and opening itself up to be entered into.

There is a Holy Sacred Sadness in nature that can be seen in Her eyes. What is this message? What is the dialogue being spoken within the eyes of birds, of deer, of rain-drenched flowers? Why do people weep at the sight of a flower. And why does that weeping feel as if the Holy Ghost has entered ones body…..

This is “Ella“. “Her” ~ not found on the outside of the female, but found deep within. The integral perfume. The silent dialogue. The silent sound of a perfected crystallized Winter snowflake falling in the absolute Center of a Sprouted Spring Blossom.
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2 thoughts on “Medea

    1. Even nature herself is “crying out” from underneath the crude work of a plagiarist. Waiting beside a Spring. Blessed are those who can see this ‘sighing’, Torch Bearer Karl!

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