Flowers of wisdom
To The Dead
To the Dead inside me ( many of whom I have murdered myself ).
It’s time to release you. I can feel you thronging together in the underworld, your cries disturbing my sleep and your longings like breathless sighs in my chest.
As an immature god alone in my inner universe, nursed on the worn out ideologies of a decaying civilisation, I used a sometimes heavy hand. Not knowing love and truth were inherent in my nature I tried to make myself conform and be more worthy of love by ruthlessly slaying many of you.
Periodic pogroms, inner gender wars, genocide of a whole race of erotic impulses I internalised as unacceptable. I even sought through spiritual bypass to impose a final solution. Others of you I simply allowed to wither, unwatered by my gaze, slowly suffocating to death.
Some I offered up as sacrifices to my ambitions. Others I let go to their deaths as scapegoats, keeping quiet at the gallows or the stake. Some I let be killed by friends, partners or potential partners whose love I sought. Or parents, teachers and those whose validation I craved.
Others, too feisty to kill, I demonised, disowned and sent on shady undercover missions. I killed bits of others too and told them it was for their own good. I took an axe to the fine trees of my children and to everyone brave enough to love me or desperate enough to seek my aid.
Finding no real love or truth at the core of my culture I allowed my own knowing to falter and fall mute inside me for a time. I abandoned my direct knowing for the sake of being known and traded my inherent wisdom for the knowledge of the world. I let the temple of my soul fall and be overrun. But that which is unborn can never die and my soul simply waited for me to return again, rebuild the temple and make of myself the flame on the hearth.
Gradually the world that was always waiting within and without began to show itself again, lit by the glow of all those who had rekindled their fire. Nourished by nature, inspired by the courage of the heart, watered and tempered by those who had already walked the path of reclamation. A world of the light of love permeated by the dark radiance of spirit that pierces illusion and shines through matter and consciousness alike. A world that always was, coming again to be in us.
Now it is time to raise the dead. To thank them for their sacrifice and celebrate a world where all those impulses and drives that our temporary insanity sorted into angels and demons are welcomed to the feast. Like Aragorn taking the perilous path through the mountains in The Lord of the Rings, we need the army of the dead.
For I not only used my death dealing power as a trainee god but also my power to create. I replaced authentic impulses anchored in life with self created orcs hatched in underground cells out of rejection, dreams of dominion and unfulfilled desires. We created global systems of ownership and slavery. We let the hungry ghosts propagate themselves in the name of necessity. Our unawakened consciousness fought to control and repress our instincts with religion and immature philosophy.
Now the sun and serpent have worn out their battle and the star is shining forth against the black sky of emptiness. It’s time to clear the remnants of a civilisation that tried too hard to become worthy of its own divinity and is way past it’s use by date.
Rise up the dead, in me and all around me. Join with those that have yet to live and make those of us in bodies now honest and faithful to that which we can never not be. Wield the dark light that tears open the veils between this world and all others. Breathe life into those zombies in us that have lost their way and seek to turn the whole earth into something barely alive, flapping weakly like a fish in the bazaar. Gather above and behind those in us where the light of the soul shines. Send your aid.
I release you from your lamentation and your damnation. The gates of heaven and hell are open. Arise from the ashes of Auschwitz, the graves of Cambodia and the baby cemeteries of Ireland. Come, mummies of Egypt, let the tombs and the crypts break open. Let all those killed in all wars gather. All those who slaved and died with barely a breath of love in their bodies. And all you murderers, rapists, thieves and betrayers. We will not betray you now. It’s time to remember what we all came for and tried and failed to be.
Come the souls of animals slaughtered in uncountable numbers. Come whole species who have been lost without care or consciousness. Come the rainforests and the whales and coral reefs. Come the angels and the aliens, the sun, moon, the planetary powers and the dark shamanic powers of the earth itself. Come all beings in all worlds that have an interest in the fate of humanity.
Stand with us now as we re-member the earth. Fight with us now as we turn this ancient tide. Let love and truth prevail in the battle for the soul of the world. The enemy is not other than those places in ourselves that have gone to sleep or fallen under the spell of fear and separation. Help us break the spell, awaken our hearts, minds and bodies. Put the sword of our soul destiny back in our hands. We are so much more than this. It’s our time to prove it.
Full moon eclipse January 21, 2019
Bruce Lyon
