Sélená Speaks Again

Sélená, princess of Luna, chimed like the golden bell of Dyeus, as all time froze, “Every season has its purpose and reason — for the cosmos, for Gaia, for you — but what do you do? Do you spend your time churning, turning, and frantically burning? Or, perhaps, your bore yourself with the lore of yesteryear?”

“Every season has its rhythm and rhyme in keeping with time, but do you climb the mountain of Life, or do you sit alone with your hurried and worried thoughts? Oh my dear, the sheer magnitude of the Cosmos must intrude upon your fret and worry! Will you continue to scurry about with the fury of a madman?”

“Seasons come and seasons go, and not without reason for you, straight and true. Winter comes boldly and coldly cleanses your heart, mind and soul, and not in part but in whole. And this in preparation for resurrection and restoration of all that is new, bright with light and life — so few understand.”

“Summertime is high and hot, exulting, but bought with a price not sought; yet it is the time to spread your wings, fly in the blue skies, and make your true home again in the heavenlies. Autumn then comes as preparation for reparation, but not in cruelty, rather in beauty; for Fall is withal reflection, circumspection, and rejection of all that is sordid.”

And so Sélená spoke and I heard this songbird of Caelum, her wisdom freeing me from my prison, and my decision was to live in her vision of love, mercy, and grace through every season for every good reason. And so I am free to see and hear and to be the real me by the decree of heaven … through all of the seasons.

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Amethyst Touchstone of Sélená

She gave me a touchstone, my love, an amethyst quartz
From the ports of heaven to leaven my days with hope,
To broaden the scope of my dreams, my Sélená, screams
Of laughter in place of disaster; all I have to do is
Touch and there is so much in the amethyst, catalyst
To happier ways through brighter days; and I kiss this
Stone and there is bliss, even though I dearly miss her,
My Sélená of Ten Thousand Falls, but she calls to me
In the night and then the dark is bright; ah! she gave
Me an invaluable gift to lift my spirits; there is no rift.

Thank you, dear and gentle and strong Sélená!

Oh Sweet Selene of Yaşam Ruh’u

So silently, surreptitiously, and smoothly do you slide in with ocean tide to abide in abode of my soul, making hearth of my heart your home, again and once again, yet never to stay, to be held at bay, whatever I might say; so sing your song sung blue and true, old and ever-new. Have only some few become your lovers, who hover around your every word, hoping for your tender, titillating touch, not much but just enough.

ΞΡ

Oh sweet Selene of Yaşam Ruh’u, what do you do in your smoothly silken, silver brush through the air, so fair and wild, what we cannot bear yet in which we share but for fleeting moments, enough to lift our care. Ought we beware of you, so true but wrapped in mystery, your history largely unknown because that you have not shown. We have but some small share in the treasure you bring, as you sing in the breeze with eloquent ease.

Sélená the Untamed Wild

ψ

Hear my promise to you to show you my love, my dove,
As sacred rhythms float gently thru the air carefree,
And I wrap myself around you like an alluring coat;
Dear boy, shed not one tear and be not drear, but hear
What I whisper promise in your ear; no need for fear
Child, meek and mild… I am Sélená the untamed wild,
My passion unchained, gateway opened wide for you
To enter in and abide inside of me, and to be clothed
In my warm flesh, fresh and nourishing, tightly bound
And rightly held as we meld together as one underneath
Bright shining Sun; this affair has only begun, my love!

ψ

Under Cover of the One: Maternal Lover

How can the son of One so great be so disimpassioned,
Having been fashioned in the womb of deep compassion?
Endlessly the Cosmos flows as cold Winter wind blows,
Leaving me cleaving to metaphysical breast for the best
Of celestial milk, so smooth as silk, ambrosia of deity,
Numinous heterogeneity of goodness that flows below
Slowly touching the souls so humble and free of banshee
Warning death, for they have embraced life much as I’ve
Suckled life-giving warmth from celestial sphere with
Nothing to fear, for I am here in the arms of one strong
To keep me from harm as She charms all mordant serpents
Of the dark Abyss from where they hiss and spit poison;
Ah! And am I safely pressed against bosom that blossoms
Flowers of eternity from sweet maternity in fraternity
Of gods and goddesses as Father Dyēus looks from above
With love and smiles approval to removal of all reproval
Of my mindless waste and so many mistakes made in haste.
I am under cover of One who ever hovers — maternal lover.

Poison & the Sword of Peace

Better the strike and bite of a venomous snake
Than the break of dæmonic poison in the heart;
For the one may kill; the other steal the soul.

I love you too much
To let this happen to you,
You, my love so true.

Bid not yourself to wraiths; be rid of the poison;
You have been chosen for more than a raging boar,
Set upon engaging creation in foolish destruction.

I appeal to you,
Repeal the agreement made
With hate to abate.

Raging war is fought, gauging the strength of heart;
Your part is seize the sword of peace and now start
To fight the plight of poison that blights humanity.

Wrath of Sélená

Storm clouds black form on the far horizon,

Churning with poison lightning and thunder

Sounds over blunders made by idiotic fool

Who drools for chocolate caked on cookies

Baked in the oven for his own self-pleasure

Under pressure to satisfy his ugly appetite;

Quite the blight on “his” hearth and home, 

Making himself the plight of otherwise bright

Family, but lo, he has now attacked beloved

Of Sélená and now the skies church and burn

With her anger; he has no idea of the danger

In which he finds himself as he wends his way

Through sanctimonious congregation in happy

Elation; ah! he has become the causation of his

Own condemnation! His agitation will end now

With amputation and castration to assure his

Humiliation as compensation for depredation

Of the beloved of Sélená; she will make proper

Reclamation now . . . for she is filled with wrath!

It will be permutation in his full decimation …

Pity now the fool fallen under condemnation!

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Note: Artwork by John Palisano

 

As the Day Flows, Sweet Selene So Serene

†

Oh how the beauty of the day flows as the cold wind blows,
And you know how much I love you and your golden glow;
How shall I show you the depth of my passion in fashion
Of smitten lover, suppliant to your compassion? As like
Unto rising from ashen heap the Phoenix, my soul arises
To meet your spirit, though I merit not your golden touch,
Such as I am, yet so much do you care, your life my crutch;
Ah! So overwhelming my dwelling place in your heart, not
In part but the whole to move in, out and around your soul,
And drink sweet ambrosia from your celestial bowl; it takes
Its toll but, too, fills the hole in my own beleaguered soul!
Thank you, sweet Selene so serene. . . Thank you; bless you!

†

Comfort: Healing Wounds of Youth

Sélená looked upon me so kindly, and booked me for comforting, healing words. And she spoke…

Yes, I remember well the arrogant babble at the table in your sister’s home, which is such a painful part of your life’s tome.

Yes, I remember the babble of the intellectual ruffians, so proud, and the invisible cable that tied you down to abide their ridicule.

Yes, I remember what advantage they took of your youth and how they managed to humiliate you, casting you into degradation, near dehumanization.

Yes, I remember how they couched their arguments under such religious pretense in their intense effort to make themselves great for their own sake.

Yes, I remember well because I was there by your side, not to hide but to provide some comfort . . . but you could not feel me then, so intent were they to win.

Yes, I remember how they overpowered your young intellect to wreck your image of Dyeus; they drove the Spirit out to fill their cognitive treasure trove.

Yes, I remember how self-congratulatory they were in besting such a weak, meek and mild child, and how furious I was at such curiously sickening scene, so obscene!

Oh, my dear one, so near to my heart, whether you believe or not, you played the better part, and both these men have since fallen apart; they committed such blunder time and time again, but their lives have been torn asunder.

Now, my child so meek and mild, wonder no longer at their wild, Calvinistic feeding frenzy; they have now been spiritually bleeding for years with no shortage of tears. And have they repented of their unkind grinding of you that day?

They are in dismay, I tell you, but neither even remember just how they dismembered your heart, your soul, but the angels know it left another hole in their hearts to be filled with yet more pride till they could abide no more; then they fell.

And, oh my child, their fall has been great, and they have now heard the call to humility, civility and true nobility; especially one in his abject debility as he has lost all agility. Certainly both have lost much of their credibility.

They have lost all virility, versatility and, thus too, all tranquility; this is the scorn of the god they’ve worshipped and served, yet they are too foolish to realize how unnerved Providence has made them!

Yes, I remember how valiantly you tried to defend Love from above, and the all-mercy of Dyeus, and the freedom of humanity to choose even amidst the calamity of this dreary and weary world. And I tell you now, you did your best and passed the test.

You are where you are now, and are who you are, and how, except for that day and many others that smothered your own pride and ego so you could stride forward as an humble and wiser man, who is no miser with what he can offer anyone, anytime.

Yes, I remember and though it may seem strange, I was proud of you then as you did begin to learn the fine art of conversational-debate, which has served you well because it is laced with humility in your face of kindness, deference and respect.

Kneel now before Dyeus and heal from this wound . . . heal now as you kneel.

Sweet Selene Passing By. . .

So silently, surreptitiously, and smoothly do you slide in with ocean tide to abide in abode of my soul, making hearth of my heart your home, again and once again, yet never to stay, to be held at bay, whatever I might say; so sing your song sung blue and true, old and ever-new. Have only some few become your lovers, who hover around your every word, hoping for your tender, titillating touch, not much but just enough.

Oh sweet Selene of Yaşam Ruh’u, what do you do in your smoothly silken, silver brush through the air, so fair and wild, what we cannot bear yet in which we share but for fleeting moments, enough to lift our care. Ought we beware of you, so true but wrapped in mystery, your history largely unknown because that you have not shown. We have but some small share in the treasure you bring, as you sing in the breeze with eloquent ease.

So do we seize the passing by and ne’er try to grasp your essence to keep in the fluorescence of our  minds, which only dim in your presence. Yet we are more, not less, since your visitation; our incense rises to meet and greet your coming-movement in and through the veins of our very being to make new what was the aged pages of our lives. Ah! But do say when you will not stray but stay, we pray.

Oh, when will you stay, we pray?