Priestess of Avalon

Priestess on the Isle of Avalon,
guardian of magic and of mystery.
Long hath she abided
in the mists of all untime,
patiently awaiting the rebirth
of the great magic of this earth
to abide again in mortal form;
for all that is most feminine
was there within the mists,
and within her,
as the Goddess Herself slept
the sleep of all awakening.

So long ago it was
(or was it only yesterday?)
that she and Merlin sought to save
humanity from losing all of this;
as magically, they willed it all
back into those mighty mists
of everything unknown,
that they might keep it all alive and well
behind a veil of gossamer,
eluding and evolving once again,
into a state akin to innocence
that long had known itself to be
the secret source of creativity;
invisible to most, still hiding,
in haunting mysteries of memory.

Now she felt the Goddess stirring.
Her power was on the rise again;
and oh, a joyful burst of energy
ran through her being.
For the time beyond all time had come -
that one moment of eternity -
when the mists would shift again,
and magic come to coexist in Love
with the greater world of man
as it had come to be:
commercial and bizarre,
still warring in a state of opposition,
believing heaven dwelt away from flesh,
and hell to be no more than a descent
somehow beyond the earth itself
into the very flesh and form
that deity had first composed
itself to be in grace and glory.

They’d made so much of cruelty,
within a force of separation,
that division, for a while, became the rule;
and its first unrealized power
became the condemnation
of one-half of all life;
forgetting all the splendor
that the wholeness of creation
always brought into reality;
and using multiplicity instead,
to increase the sickness
they wished to control
within their sense of power
over lives and deaths
that never could bet theirs.

Yet at last, the breeze
has turned to spring again
(oh, energy of all divinity exposed
at last for what it is - eternity)
beyond the senseless
sense of its containment;
as emotions warred,
within each mortal form;
earth itself now thundering
in its newfound sense of all enlightenment,
that it alone had brought to being,
and thus into all consciousness.

Lightening slashed
(oh light of living earth at last
exposing all that truly is)
to bring itself into these lives
of living consciousness,
unfolding and expanding
the very form the earth created
to conceive the darkness
of all that was left unknown
into the unknowingness of deity itself.

And every drop of life
lay in the balance
of these transitory opposites,
believed to live and dwell
in intellect alone these days -
no credit given to the sense
of flesh and form and feel,
for all that it had come to be.
Intellect - mere fiery light
that could not live
without the fuel of darkness
that it too oft’ conceived
as somehow other than itself.

Yet somehow, in the marred
and scarred belief in time itself,
and thus in hours and age and death,
this blind belief became the guiding fear;
drawing power to itself through mortal form,
for more and more society had veered
away from all that is most natural,
forced within an attitude of angry moods,
and to seek no more than just this power
that proved to bring no more than
a destruction of itself,
denying Love the very presence
that had brought it to conception -
air and earth and fire and water,
working in a unity of strength.

Love lay too long within the mists, unseen.
Denied, forgotten, seldom known,
or seen or felt and thus revered
for the purity of deity it is,
that brings the very light of all deliverance
again and yet again into its form;
as all the pain once suffered
could surely be reborn in love
between the two extremes
of masculine and feminine,
if only just allowed again into
the meaning of existence.

And so each heart, once broken,
finds hope again at last,
when misty veils come to pass,
as if a morning mist upon a pond
ascending through pure sunlight streaming,
revealing itself for what it is,
bringing time back through the realm
of magic and of mystery -
named, at last, in truth as Love itself -
a verity of this eternal timelessness.

And so the priestess gathered all Her power,
seeking that one moment of eternity
to breathe the icy chill of winter’s separation,
and warm it to a point now felt and known
that ever needs to keep on streaming free.
As the truth of all deliverance from pain,
never really born within the numb
of icy intellect or battered will,
or of a spirit, forced into a separation
that stood alone in desperation
divided from the mighty beat of heart -
flesh and form - the gist of all reality,
settling, again into itself, so naturally.

And so the magic came to be
the meaning underlying all we are,
within one heart of love that beats ]
its time into reality,
as the masculine and feminine
became a unity yet once again;
resurrected in the power that it shared
this time, in an equality of,honesty
built upon communication and relationship
raised to another level of all consciousness.
As the feminine begin to lay its claim
for credit in the halls of fame
that used to only honor masculinity.

While this truth, in vision even now,
becomes pure form within Her womb,
as emotion claims itself to be
the energy of all eternity,
within a sense and all sensation,
built of its own validation.
This, the priestess in the mists of Avalon,
foretold as true (and so it is,
and it shall be, into infinity...)

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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