The Long Dark and My Companions

Generally speaking Fall and Winter were the territory of He Who Sometimes Likes To Be Called Hermes. Even before I started using Hermes/Poseidon a regular names for them there was a general “changing of the guard” that happened. I’m starting to get the feeling this that this year, possibly every year from now on, there isn’t going to be a God switch. I mean there was a definite arrival of “Hermes” when the retrograde started, confirmed by a dream the day before the Solstice that He was here and staying. All the water imagery hasn’t left though. It’s all mishmashed in with the Hermes related things. He Who Sometimes Likes To Be Called Poseidon is whispering now that He is the “Constant Companion” and that Hermes is the one who comes and goes. 

This should make for an interesting Season.

Lateralus

Breadcrumbs…

“Lateralus”

Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn beyond the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition, missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will to feel my moment drawing way outside the lines.

Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me.
lets me see there is so much more
and beckons me to look through to these infinite possibilities.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.

Over thinking, over analyzing separates the body from the mind.
Withering my intuition leaving opportunities behind.

Feed my will to feel this moment urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace the random.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.

I embrace my desire to, I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected
enough to step aside and weep like a widow
to feel inspired, to fathom the power,
to witness the beauty, to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral, to swing on the spiral,
to swing on the spiral of our divinity and still be a human.

With my feet upon the ground I lose myself
between the sounds and open wide to suck it in.
I feel it move across my skin.
I’m reaching up and reaching out.
I’m reaching for the random or whatever will bewilder me.
Whatever will bewilder me.
And following our will and wind we may just go where no one’s been.
We’ll ride the spiral to the end and may just go where no one’s been.

Spiral out. Keep going…