Moriah Conquering Wind

In the beginning: What is eternal

is incapable

of commencing.

The clearest segue into a ghostly, hypersensitive

world

follows Ariadne’s thread stretching

without knot or slack

into

the astral representation—it flies with such force!

Strong desires charge powerful emotion

wayward & needful;

fetish is lost in a labyrinth of natural ecstasy.

In such raptures lie the secret

to Moriah’s holy instance but in the spirit

of clean magic,

old & new,

she will need a deeper scheme.

Asking to transcend immutable laws

of nature?

Carried by astral winds across a flooded world,

at the swiftest banks of the riverbed,

a whirlwind lands.

Contemplate the dream: a brief coded exchange

into mystical double vision for

she will

believe it’s next lesson—the same for years

of Mystery.

Spoiled in faith & determination

of others,

Moriah settles for participant, swirling to blend

under the wisdom of hidden centuries

a product of furious blood;

the enchanter’s lament:

Time be the matrix where

liquid,

fluid sex becomes a doorway to

sublime versatility.

Moriah possesses courage not to

extinguish burning desire,

instead resting in all that is corporeal; satisfied

through flesh.

Once spirit is paralyzed & all

power arrives through the lust

of ego, in fevered loins,

she finds higher mystical notes.

To thrust downward,

penetration

must include swift, rotating glides—marvel how pain,

the mother of mercy & knowledge

vibrates!

This is magic as power, used

to encompass the mixture

of dissimilar things,

of a fuller spectrum,

spiced with astral sex & tantric projections which

render her suggestible

to silly superstitions & great virtuosity

in sudden transitions of mood—the price of anchoring oneself

to the flux.

With nets of steel,

Moriah came of age

ascending through all she ever loved,

inside an oasis

of compliance glorious & celestial.

She still hears whispers of souls who

brave

to make right chaos in this land.

To assist in focus, she pulls

backward,

piece by piece to shoot

forward—in retributive form she is

Mount Moriah,

the will of Eternal Nature

whispered by a cooperative commonwealth,

shaping as she has been so

profoundly,

exquisitely

molded herself.

Snow fairies fly for the season,

darkness will end

as shadows of starlight at dawn;

that soft light which

comforts in the early hours like a dream insisting

on reality.

It will take time for the true nature of Moriah’s crusade

to surface,

for the mystical fan dance

of promise & threat,

an exploration of humanity, making

peace with the over-soul,

social sciences inlaying the secrets

of continuity & repair—still.

It is the fashion

of the day to be

distracted.

{Illustration by Enrico Hillyer Giglioli}