Apocalypse of enLovenment.

 “To what shall I compare the kingdom of God? It is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, until it was all leavened." Luke 13:20-21

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Apocalypse of enLovenment.

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Kundalini condenses the Holy Wine,

alchemical process of distillation;

fiery intelligence forges a Grail,

New Skin of the dragon's Pearl.

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Icarus flew directly to the Sun,

forgot the offering from the Moon;

fell back into the unconscious ocean,

failed to waken his shining Stone.

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Spirit of fire distils a Libation,

water into Wine by sublimation;

Blood is the leaven for risen Bread,

Luna's feminine enLovenment.

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In my Helmet hermetically sealed,

drunk on spiritual Wine distilled,

before my Eye an apocalyptic Dawn!..

the wedding of the Sun and Moon.

~*~

"The Splendour of the Sun" 1532.

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"The Father's Mind forth-bubbled, conceiving,
with His Will in all its Prime, Ideas that take upon
themselves all forms... Thoughts from the Paternal
Source that pluck unto their full the Flower of Fire at
height of sleepless Time." Chaldean Oracles.

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"The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the 

coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord." Acts 2:20.

The Secret Behind Ideation, 

and the Id-entity Subjectified.

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I feel demented inside my New Skin,

a zombie in ectoplasmical suffocation;

I must conjure-up the dragon's Myst,

thoughtless bubbles into Blood and Flesh.

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In the Image of GOD we are made,

the Canvas behind all words in mind;

original Fingerprint of Id conceived,

in-no-sensory innocence, Dew and Word.

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The serpent, Christ, was wise indeed,

God's pet of passion dispersing seeds;

Gnostic scintillae in the Burning Bush,

begin to grow by zoomorphic apotheosis.

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Dyed in the language of survival,

in search of Manna to become eternal;

to free ourselves from being driven,

imprinted with biological conditioning.

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Instinct into an ego in bicameral man,

begins to tame the chthonic dragon;

water and air of emotions and ideas,

humanize the beast betwixt our ears.

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The stolen fire of creative~destruction,

devours the earth to form a New Skin;

pure Dust into Ash for a silvery Grail,

water to Wine, ideation into an Ideal.

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Thoth, ancient god of magical writing,

has hidden a secret in lower spelling;

the ideas we conjure inside the mind,

are but practice for God's higher Wind.

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In the "Cloud of Unknowing" uplifted,

my Grail of emptiness is full of GrOunD;

that I must now concentrate condensed,

into Blood of mercurial Quintessence.

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Manna of Flour in the sealed Crucible,

Mystery Solved into Bread of my Soul;

quantum Light from Myst Solidified,

a blushing Moon and Sun Subjectified.

~*~