Transmission: Lightening Rod for the Heat of Divine Mother’s Holy Fire

Lightening Rod for the Heat of Divine Mother’s Holy Fire
Through Ariel Spilsbury

Passion is potency,
a true forgetting of the
small self..
jagged lightening bolts
shattering, then
consuming in the Phoenix fire,
the shards of those small remaining pieces of your
undigested power..
power that can stubbornly seem to refuse not to fully recognize its single Source
in self annihilation
in the Flame of Love..
for fear that that might actually mean
becoming the flame fuel for the Creatrix’s
electric orange molten magma
which consumes the rigid black lava of your terror  of actually
letting go
offering with a sigh the calcified, unchanging, fixed positions
now touched free in the conscious heat of
the flame of the Goddess’ temple,
truth burning in the belly
Shakti fire raging
locked in a sensuous dance with freedom
that is the alchemical container that burns clear
whatever you still may refuse to surrender…
in your dance with power
what part of your power has not yet been fully freed into Love?
For that is the gate guardian
to Merlin’s domain
as his cape of the indigo vault of heaven,
and his impish innocence clearly reflects
his hard crabby hermit exterior
made of “strong, practical, responsible”
only keeping away the unwary well wishers wanting wisdom
“What does any of this have to do with me,”
the mind suddenly rudely interjects
blissus interruptus
stealing the microphone from the Witness
who doesn’t even really care if you still have judgment or critical acclaim
even as the hero or heroine of your own holographic game
so what i really want to know is
what keeps you from wresting the microphone away from the
troll holding the scales of truth on your shoulder
yelling mean things in your ear at times
in vain attempts to try to keep you in
the tiny, Lilliputian virtual domain
constructed from any remaining fear or judgment..
meant to keep your matrix manageable
Jigs up!
You’re down the rabbit hole now,
no hiding from the mythic talent scout you scripted to come in
at this section of your archetypal movie to read you
today’s headlines.. “Bash Thrown by Emptiness: Ego/mind found joyfully consumed
in the opulent profusion of a Dionysian Bacchinal
thrown by the Now
inhabiting Essence”
Who is choosing to step up.
Archetypal, alchemical melt down of judgment and fear dissolved
by putting them on the witness stand for a change
and while they’re there,
be sure to ask them who pays their salaries?
and while your at it.. why don’t you ask if, why or how
you are still playing that silly “shrink to fit” game? …
“It was noted by Timeless magazine that Awareness was observed.. entertaining itself
by pouring melted gold light between two chalices
until such time as you decided to open your heart in childlike vulnerability and
so that Awareness could let the illuminating gold rush rip
to fill up your clear, empty chalice…
with the light that sounds like… Tibetan temple bowls
played with the loving hands of monks given to hearing the voice of Silence
clean, clear, cool, blue, penetrating, vertical
making mandalas of manifested light
om sounded on oil
forms a twelve pointed star
receptive coding
that you now have chosen consciously to stand in the middle of
in this initiatory fire
like Arthur, like Merlin,
like the mantle Christ placed on Mary Magdalen at his leave taking,
hot orange flames holding the immanent, horizontal frequency of the Goddess
that rushes headlong through the body’s black and gold snakes
that both consume and fuel creation
with their passion
the orange and blue flames dying embrace in a fire’s embers..
shaking with the radiance of
the Shakti fire
that unifies all appearances
Empress, Hermit, Magus,
Unwhole, Unwise, Unwilling
Unprepared to pay the price
of admission to Lucidity..
that sees through the multiplicity of things
into the Realm of what’s Real?