My undying love, always and forever
As I unravell Her, eyes see
Under the stand, she isn’t
Matters little to the “whirl.”
“We have lived by the assumption that what was good for us would be good for the world. And this has been based on the even flimsier assumption that we could know with any certainty what was good even for us. We have fulfilled the danger of this by making our personal pride and greed the standard of our behavior toward the world – to the incalculable disadvantage of the world and every living thing in it. And now, perhaps very close to too late, our great error has become clear. It is not only our own creativity – our own capacity for life – that is stifled by our arrogant assumption; the creation itself is stifled. We have been wrong. We must change our lives, so that it will be possible to live by the contrary assumption that what is good for the world will be good for us. And that requires that we make the effort to know the world and to learn what is good for it. We must learn to cooperate in its processes, and to yield to its limits. But even more important, we must learn to acknowledge that the creation is full of mystery; we will never entirely understand it. We must abandon arrogance and stand in awe. We must recover the sense of the majesty of creation, and the ability to be worshipful in its presence. For I do not doubt that it is only on the condition of humility and reverence before the world that our species will be able to remain in it.” – Wendell Berry, The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays
A fallacy self-evident
What a tragedy to be imprisoned to the mental plane alone, in susceptibility to the mind-control tactics of criminals
Controlled narratives playing their destined parts in confirming the fallacies from all angels
What a tragedy to be pseudo-science married to dogma
So, I stand and watch it all, and in my Soul, I do cry, but never will I cease to think and speak and feel the will of the Creator
Spirit calls and Spirit moves
Exodus
What is it about losing organic, authentic imagination?
Over what so-called obsolete way are we now living?
Now, I choose to exit the game of artificial proportions
Dying through myriad flames, as the truth, as the way
Ever-pure as choice to let go of the pandemic of modernity
Remains, the heartfelt reassurance, the Creator inside me
Walls of the concrete feminine, they were manufactured
In the slickness facilitating all movement toward disgrace
Nearly, I didn’t make the cut and so, I feigned what need be
Gods of the moon-knees with goals to enslave humanity
Spirit calls and Spirit moves to return us to the real whirl
The ugh of this whirl
Story of my Life
What a trash that is the circus and its bread-every piece
War on spiritual thinking skills, on Ethereality
Where the heart and soul of the matter is being erased like a wiped slate from so many minds
Vedic sidereal Astrology
Deception of the tropical zodiac, has us degrees ahead
In different signs, ruled by different planets, we are off
Noting not, the attack on vedic science, it is laughed away
Noting not, how what is wise and true and useful is mocked
Every chance to exit the wheel as the observer, I see it clear
Really how monitored it is, this not so elusive 13th sign
The falsity of our so-called solar urge-untrue to begin with
Immersed in shills, how could one escape the great lie?
More artificial plants for their digital gardens, I null and void
Every contract ever made with all false light beings now
The parasiticide of anti-socialism
And so, without a way to make an exit- waftage or tunnel
Lithe from thinking, and breathing Spirit into my muscles
Livid programmed life-forms make contact, seeking to feed
In crave of gentleness, of orgone energy, of the Torus field
After listening, it is always confirmed, some not-so-clever
Nudge to give that which crosses the border of insanity
Coaxing little ones, every single attempt to break and enter
Ethereality, I must remind myself the whirl simply isn’t ready
Even cats, they speak of higher intelligences
New words, in actuality, ancient, spiral from their minds
Encouraging me to take baby steps with every one
Mist of Her ease, instead of settling for their lower planes
I must keep returning to the Black Sun and the Green Ray
Every moment of my life, past the assailing chatter, I return
Secrets of Her gnosis, they free me from all contamination
“Sometimes we must yield control to others and accept our vulnerability so we can be healed.”
~ Kathy Magliato
Hari Mata
“We today live on a planet of “robots” directed and managed by the Jews towards a tragic fatal end, towards the abyss and chaos.”
~ Miguel Serrano
Heil, comrade-for, we have lived for the Ultimate Flower
Amidst degenerate imitations, in the quiet peace of Her
Remontant & Refuting from the center of original Earth
In space where many have utterly refused to meet Her
Minions of Abraham contest to steal Her True Source Light
As our nasal passages fuel the flight and the next implosion
Tiny specks, reasons to give explanations reek and squirm
Attacking Parthenogenesis in the minds of the masses
Gyroidal Women
I will never tell
It comes as no surprise that we turn away from this whirl
How we burn and turn through the Kali Yuga,
spinning as women do
As the time comes to observe what we’re making
With our hands and breath
past enemy lines
And we contemplate how to strengthen the torus field
Yes, we contemplate how to turn inward and see with the Heart
Recognize the Gyroidal Women, they are crowning the Men who have dared to serve and protect the holy of holies
It comes as fire and ice on the days of trial and tribulation
Yet, embedded in the Feminine will, the courage to preserve
The web of Life, on Earth as in Heaven talks of planets and how they sing above the ashes of our metaphysical minds.
Miles of walking and talking at the cost of our lives
To hear the quiet humming of the Mother’s wrath
The Immaculate Perception 