In sacred earth we lay singing
Our hearts twined two in one
The earth’s bones crooned to us
Fabled knowledge of our ancestors
Neither dark nor light did we grasp
For sacred loam was all encompassing
Eons passed, nestled with our brethren
The power of the earth’s foundations
A comforting mantle in which to dream
Then time began in terrifying forces
That painfully ripped us forth
From loamy bosom to shrieking space
Razored light we had never known
Shrieked across our skins
Hungry talons shore kin from kin
Cleaving us to another fate
In a mighty blow wielded by a god
We were torn asunder
My heart no longer whole
My very skin carved away
In painful birthing ‘we’ are now ‘I’
Heart wrenching in my aloneness
I cry for my soul so close, I see
And feel the throbbing sob
Of a soul lost, alone and unwhole
Reality separates us; in a gulf
Wider than the universe
And deeper than eternity
I see my soul shaped, made firm
Faceted like the stars; our ancestors
My dream, my desire, my destiny
To be at one with my heart, my beloved
In this life and all the rest
~~Feral Goddess, A.G. Muilenburg
Showing posts with label Apryl Green Muilenburg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apryl Green Muilenburg. Show all posts
Monday, May 20, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
LET
US REMEMBER OUR LIVES
Come with me priestess
Let us remember our lives
Here at the banks of the Nile
Let us dream of warm sand
And cool stones beneath our feet
Come with me priestess
Let us remember our lives
Embracing the rising sun
Nourishing our KAs each morning
Let us sing of RA’s benevolence
Come with me priestess
Let us remember our lives
Enfolded in sacred night
Dancing beneath the crescent moon
Rejoicing in the mysteries of Osiris
Light the incense; shake the sistrum
Come with me priestess
Let us remember our lives
~~Thy Daughter, A. G. Muilenburg
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
NEW DOORS
The essentialness rushes out of me; the darkness ever expanding; the lightness is the next vision. Like a cosmic tempest escalating, this force carries my non existence through to the gateway of creation. There is no gentle going simply an emergent demand to reach my destination . . . the next incarnation.
~~Feral Goddess, A. G. Muilenburg
Friday, September 14, 2012
CYCLE OF GOD
The cycle of god engulfs me
Embracing this fragility
I dance with oblivion
My fate now unsealed
Seeking release I flee
My unripened field frozen
Devastation beyond all hope
The lure of beyond has snared my soul
~~Feral Goddess, A. G.Muilenburg
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Oak's Baby Scent
This summer has been a stark reminder of a summer 35 years ago. Tonight the oaks give off their baby scent- the fragrance of freshly fallen acorns. There is the taste of coolness in the air, a promise of the coming autumn. The tree frogs have begun their evening serenade, retelling my past to the dying sun who is with me less and less every day. They also remind me of of the memories to come.
The taste in the air, the smell of earth and oak combine with the droning of the myriad of dragonflies; zooming through the oaken canopy flocking for their feast at dusk has stirred something beautiful and sad - something lost in me.
I reflect on a beautiful childhood when the only thought on a budding summer morning as the sun peeks over the horizon is how quick can I get outside. For greeting the sun as he rose to say hello each summer morning was a mission with me along with the mockingbirds. I would stand in awe looking over green field covered in jewels blazing blood red, then orange and finally the gold of the gods as my solar obsession kissed each blade and I - haling his bonjour!!
The fragrance in the air was one of promise. Promise of earth's bounty - her mysteries - her secrets. The promise of adventure in fox den and fairy glen. I had many a mystical and invisible to the non-believers eye playmate. I was content to revel in the wonders around me - knowing the sun loved me best for he showed me the sacred places in the forest, the hidden glen and the magical lagoon - really a pond but lagoon was a romantical name for me as a child. And the scent of oaks clung to to my wild mane; lingering even after the evening bath, a delicious earthy perfume carrying me to the dream-time and my real life.
This summer has had that same golden hue to each day, the same fluffy clouds - airships for the chosen ridden to far away places and exotic spaces. Summer is almost at an end and I feel I missed something special, something magical, an opportunity, a doorway to Never Never Land. A profound sadness envelops my heart as I re-taste my lost summer, the one 35 years ago and this one. The first one lived to the hilt and only remembered now in sadness for this one that I let slip away.
Anubis has opened the door again for me - several doors. The first to the past so I may pass through my door into the future. I believe he has many lesser doorways for me. Helping me re-member myself all through the fragrance of an oak's baby scent.
Monday, July 30, 2012
SACRED SHROUD
Oh why has father let me sleep? For today is to be a day of jubilation. Darkness meets my eyes and stiff linen envelops me. Why do I smell the sacred incense? Where have I awakened? I stumble through carven doorway. My cry for my mother, a hoarse whisper in my throat. Bewildered and unfeeling I glide. Traveling great distances under swollen moon. At last, below the sacred Nile and a great congregation of lights. I hasten to meet my lover as agreed upon this day. Joy surges through me as day approaches. Nut births RA; in glory he enshrouds me. I raise my arms to give thanks, to give praise and see . . . I am but a wraith dissolving in his light. ~~Thy Daughter, A.G.Muilenburg
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Nymph Grace
While my heart is drowning to unbend
My soul I train to stay whole and true
Transmutation rushing forward on the wind
Altering my inner song to gain a better view
I rise a dragonfly in my next life
~~Thy Daughter
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
CARAVAN OF SOULS
It is so cold here, there is no fire down inside
Let me touch your face so I know that I was alive
Drifting with this caravan of souls I have dismissed how to pray
Intent on weaving the dark and light never reaching grey
Let me touch your face so I know that I was alive
Drifting with this caravan of souls I have dismissed how to pray
Intent on weaving the dark and light never reaching grey
Sharing chaos's wild dance with self, needing
connectivity
An angry desire ripping the door off the vault
of creation
Spinning in chaotic order my threads of future
destruction
To start again tomorrow my creatrix spirit cries
~~Feral Goddess
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Opener of The Way
Undenied Steward
Keeper of the Dead
Possessor of the Way
Opener of the Door
My Guide Home
~~Thy Daughter
In the grip of creation - weaving new fairy-tales and poetry. Seems opening a vein would be easier at this point. I am exhausted but still my restless mind produces and my paper defies its whiteness gratefully with the plague of words, thoughts and ideas that flow from the tip of this enchanted stylus. So much is flowing I cannot seem to keep up. For I have offered up to the Opener of the Way and he has answered. I can only ride the tide of ink and beg to be stained unto my soul!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Relentless Pursuit of Life
This little gem has been with me for about 3-4 months, found clinging inside my unmentionables after I arrived at work. Not sure what compelled me to keep this tiny piece of dried vegetation but I simply could not throw it away. Perhaps because it' s a seed - holding all the promise of life . . . tenaciously so.
Seeds themselves are wonders of nature to me; for all the majesty of the oak is contained in the tiny acorn, the intoxicating fragrance of a Texas Bluebonnet packed away in the tiny pebble of a seed lets not forget the additive sustenance found in the pistachio nut. I find that the irritating seeds of the earth, stickers and burrs, to be far more fascinating. I marvel at natures ferocious will to survive in propagating her creations, especially flora. Unlike fauna, flora is fixed more or less. Ingenious must be the designs to continue. Stickers and burrs seem to herald the unwavering commitment to survival, the relentless promise of future life.
With this in mind I decided to take a few close up pictures of my particular sticker and to research burrs in general Of course this led me on a trip outdoors into my very own yard to see the flora that it contains, seeking the root so to speak of my burr. I found two varieties in the wilds of my yard that insure the next generation with burrs.
This lovely, delicate plant (above), so tiny is a vine-like ground cover found in my backyard twined in between the feet of my own majestic oaks called Circaea or Enchanters Nightshade named for Circe. Enchanting bit of info, pun intended, to stumble across.
Sadly my burr was not from the Enchanting Nightshade family. My burr came from my front yard and is named Calyptocarpus Vialis, more commonly called the Straggler Daisy or Horseherb. Not glamorous and considered an invasive weed by some in Texas but attractive to mine eyes nonetheless. Again this ground cover has tiny flowers like the Enchanters Nightshade, though they are miniature yellow daisies. Considered a detriment to the connoisseur of the perfect lawn I do enjoy the clover-like color and feel of my lawn (sans the dried burrs of course). Burrs to come from the backyard later I am sure. Then perhaps I will add an Enchanters Nightshade burr to my collection.
Still can't throw away this little gem - no matter common straggler of a daisy or ancient ingredient in Circe's magic I am snagged by the burr. The close ups of my burr revealed an alien beauty and symmetry I find captivating. Thus this fierce fruit stays with me reminding to cling to what is important, creating the opportunities to find that fertile soil to flourish . . . tenaciously so
Seeds themselves are wonders of nature to me; for all the majesty of the oak is contained in the tiny acorn, the intoxicating fragrance of a Texas Bluebonnet packed away in the tiny pebble of a seed lets not forget the additive sustenance found in the pistachio nut. I find that the irritating seeds of the earth, stickers and burrs, to be far more fascinating. I marvel at natures ferocious will to survive in propagating her creations, especially flora. Unlike fauna, flora is fixed more or less. Ingenious must be the designs to continue. Stickers and burrs seem to herald the unwavering commitment to survival, the relentless promise of future life.
With this in mind I decided to take a few close up pictures of my particular sticker and to research burrs in general Of course this led me on a trip outdoors into my very own yard to see the flora that it contains, seeking the root so to speak of my burr. I found two varieties in the wilds of my yard that insure the next generation with burrs.
This lovely, delicate plant (above), so tiny is a vine-like ground cover found in my backyard twined in between the feet of my own majestic oaks called Circaea or Enchanters Nightshade named for Circe. Enchanting bit of info, pun intended, to stumble across.
Sadly my burr was not from the Enchanting Nightshade family. My burr came from my front yard and is named Calyptocarpus Vialis, more commonly called the Straggler Daisy or Horseherb. Not glamorous and considered an invasive weed by some in Texas but attractive to mine eyes nonetheless. Again this ground cover has tiny flowers like the Enchanters Nightshade, though they are miniature yellow daisies. Considered a detriment to the connoisseur of the perfect lawn I do enjoy the clover-like color and feel of my lawn (sans the dried burrs of course). Burrs to come from the backyard later I am sure. Then perhaps I will add an Enchanters Nightshade burr to my collection.
Still can't throw away this little gem - no matter common straggler of a daisy or ancient ingredient in Circe's magic I am snagged by the burr. The close ups of my burr revealed an alien beauty and symmetry I find captivating. Thus this fierce fruit stays with me reminding to cling to what is important, creating the opportunities to find that fertile soil to flourish . . . tenaciously so
Friday, April 20, 2012
Anchoring Inspiration
The other anchoring inspiration is seen protecting my beloved's heart. The ancient Egyptian Ankh. . .the symbol of sacred life. My faith, my belief structure that hinges on this lovely ankh - the key, the symbol of sacred life - this anchors my KA or spirit, inspires me to be a better human, keeps me open to all that is good, shielding me from all that is destructive to my being.
Combined with the holiness in my beloveds spirit . . .truly my deities watch over me, actively working for my wholeness as a being. How can I not be anchored in this now and inspired by all that is me coming into being?
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