By Michael Rosen
These are the hands That touch us first
Feel your head Find the pulse
And make your bed.
These are the hands That tap your back
Test the skin Hold your arm Wheel the bin
Change the bulb Fix the drip Pour the jug Replace your hip.
By Michael Rosen
These are the hands That touch us first
Feel your head Find the pulse
And make your bed.
These are the hands That tap your back
Test the skin Hold your arm Wheel the bin
Change the bulb Fix the drip Pour the jug Replace your hip.
It doesn’t interest me if you are good looking. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself and if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not hurt another. I want to know if you can be faithful and trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty - even when it’s not a good day, and if you can endure great hardship and can still abide in God’s presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout wildly and ecstatically to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
Who was there in her 1940s sitting room, Yvette of course, the one who held the chalice for me.
This is what she
revealed last night: To find the Grail is to appreciate “awe and wonder”, and
she spoke about how Jupiter was known to the ancient Babylonians and is Father God
of expansion and benevolence, inspiration of heroes, and how he always outshines
his predecessor, the old father God, Saturn, who was so mean and greedy that he ate his own children.
Carl Jung devised the term ‘synchronicity with his colleague, the physicist, Wolfgang Pauli, but neither explained the concept to any definitive degree. Probability mathematicians have questioned the theory, as coincidences can occur that look to be unprovable.
Marcel Sternberger was a methodical man of nearly 50, with bushy white hair, guileless brown eyes, and the bouncing enthusiasm of a czardas dancer of his native Hungary. He always took the 9:09 Long Island Railroad train from his suburban home to Woodside, N.Y.., where he caught a subway into the city.
St Just Well |
From Tarot Apokalypsis by Ciro Marchetti: The Chariot - The Roman Triumph Imperial cult and apotheosis of heroes! "Call my name in triumph, sing my praises in victory, give sacrifice only unto me, and I shall show you the mysteries of the triumphant road. I am winged apotheosis, pulling your soul from dirt into the shining heavens, there to place you an an immortal star, unconquered and unrivaled. I am the song of your name that lives long after the singer has gone, the rhyme of your deeds to last through the ages. I am the overcoming and the rising, the procession of the soul to greatness, and the achievement of your greatest ambitions. Know this: that the heavens were not created for the humble and mediocre and only greatness can ensure your immortality. What man is mortal whose name is remembered? What woman is not a goddess whose deeds are still spoken of? Yet do not mistake me: this is not the aggrandisement of the self alone, for this is the only service of the ego to the world. In your triumph you shall show to others the possibility of greatness, bringing into their reach the highest of goals: your virtue shall be enshrined in the holy words of the poets and inspire the journey to godhead of those who come long after you are gone. Victory, Imperator, and the mantle of the gods!"