Full moon in Aries
Sun in Libra:
Two couples, always dancing,
Moon and sun,
Venus and Mars.
Inner and Outer,
Heart and Body.
Love is found at the end of
growth.
This is my Lover's Story.
I returned to my own self
after a long journey
in exile
and slept the night
in my own skin.
Awoke with the twilight.
I took my broom from the witch corner
and shook out the old stardust
and wisps of moonbeams past;
made an offering of it to the pixie legions, to sparkle up
the night,
and followed their Tinkerbell flocks
up,
and away.
On the astral plane
I unleashed the butterflys of Love,
sent the Peace doves soaring,
and herded the bluebirds of Happiness
closer to your door.
I pealed the bells of Laughter
Shook the Smile trees
hard
so the fruit would fall
like rain;
And rode the milk white
Moon dragons across the galaxy-sky.
And everywhere I went
there were colours
and lights
and people dancing
and singing,
making merry as they met,
and even as they would part,
merry, merry, and merry again.
Love is never ending, unceasing, always present.
And every person I saw
was so powerful, abundant, healthy, happy!
All were transformed,
and none had quarrel with each other;
and sometimes even, enemies were embracing
and foes confiding.
And I felt so buoyant
Like that floating laughing tea party
in Merry Poppins!
All of life should be such merry pop-ins!
Tea in chalk drawings, and flying kites
and talking to birds and sunbeams.
And as I held on to Merry's parrot umbrella
and floated briefly over the astral Thames,
I saw through her eyes
and her magick
that made those ordinary things
take on new meaning.
That it was not the chalk drawing
or the sunbeam
or the feed the birds lady
that created the magick.
It was the woman
that could take ordinary things
and make them extraordinary.
SUPERcalifragilisticexpiolodociousNATURAL.
And my eyes became wide and wonderous
and as if the lens of them had
become inside out, backwards,
convex instead of concave, or
vice versa.
These God-like creatures that I was encountering
on the Astral Plane,
during a first class full moon flight,
these bright and happy and beautiful people,
were the same people for whom
I often found myself
unable to tolerate even momentarily
without temper loss
on the Mundane Plane.
My eyeballs were so backward
and twisted around every witch-way,
I could see inside of my own head,
really far, deep into all the caverns and
labyrinths.
I could see all the spooky dungeons
and the old torture racks,
the court room chambers and judges chairs.
I saw all the captives I had taken and held hostage
over the years,
all the grudges and disappointments.
I passed rooms filled with discarded chips
from my shoulders,
rows of powder stained duelling pistols,
lengthy and detailed documents of wrongs
and anger and resentments.
My new eyes showed me how
those shadows played before
me, obscuring the magick and miracles that are present
in every moment;
disguising the Avatar-- Buddha, Jesus, Aradia--within
a fleshsuit and manners.
The Dalai Lama claims
that the highest spiritual reality can be found
here.
Right now.
Bert is often out, of a sunny day
in London town,
making chalk drawings on the sidewalk,
for all to see,
but it is the eyes of Merry Poppins
that makes it come to life.
And I felt like I'd awakened from a dream
within a dream
although I was not sleeping.
And the pixies shrieked with profane
and disrespectful laughter at my epiphany,
circling me like flying dervish dancers,
covering me in my own cobwebbed moondust.
And the Dragons assured me
they knew the way home,
if I wanted a ride
so I could ogle the old world with my witch-way eyes.
And I said yes,
and I looked at everything,
and it was all new,
it was all beautiful.
Just like before.
And you were there.
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