Call to her

From the shackles of our subconscious,
Love
is pleading, screaming, begging,
for release.

The opposite of love
is lack of,
which is insanity,
but not the root of all evil.
Evil
is the lack of consciousness
that we are love.

Truth is,
we are bundles of love
before we’re born.
We depart from
our point of origin,
gestate in the womb,
and head for the light
at the end of the cervical tunnel.
We must go through the darkness
to get to the light.
One has only to look at the roots of a tree
to see
that the waters of life,
the stuff that feeds our souls,
is deep,
down below the surface
where soil is blackest.

Once born,
we forget who we are,
where we’ve come from,
and believe ourselves unlovable.
We glom like parasites
to the nearest available life-form
and suck the life-force
out of them,
unaware of our own source within.

All these years,
smart as we think we are,
all we have done
is imitate the past
like replicants
programmed to mimic human behavior,
sans consciousness.

We are standing on the outside
looking in
like the little match-girl,
craving warmth,
yet unable to find the key
to cross the threshold

Before the last flame goes out,
call to the feminine:
call to the Magdalene,
Isis, Sophia, Lillith, Baba Yaga, White Buffalo Calf Woman.
Call to the wise-woman,
crone,
higher-self,
divine-feminine,
Call her.
She speaks through dreams,
and says,
“Your hearts are your homes
and your homes are but a symbol.
Now, go, create your own:
Most beautiful,
Most powerful,
Most flagrant.”