| "A long time ago, seven prophets visited the Anishnawbeg when they were living along the eastern shore of this land..." A land now known as Canada. Seven fires were lit, and each one told a prophecy of what was to come. The 1st fire foretold the Coming of the Sacred Shell, which are the teachings about looking at the origins of one's life. We examine what we have been told and decide for ourselves what to keep along our journey and what to let go of. The 2nd fire... The Time of Change, from the teachings of the first fire, they built themselves a good way of life. A beautiful harmony existed between the spirit and the body. And thus, change from within carried across the borders of the physical plains. The 3rd Fire spoke of Movement and Migration. This fire is lit once we decide to move in a new direction, away from all that has been familiar to us. In my own personal journey, I feel the third fire came to burn last year when I migrated here. The 4th Fire: The Meeting of New Brothers and Sisters. "Before they left, they were told to be careful no matter where they went. They were told to keep looking after themselves in a good way and to be mindful of living in a good way. They were cautioned about meeting strangers, that they would meet new brothers and sisters on their journey." There comes a point on every querent's path where they reach the threshold of what is known, to Unknown. And even with the most pure intent, what is to follow is almost always unexpected... The 5th Fire was the Time of Struggle: "what happens in the fourth fire can result in the lightening of the firth fire." A Fool's journey is always met by the Tower, and as prophesized in divine text throughout millennia, destruction always leads to discovery. I'll save the 6th and 7th Fires for another entry when I cross that bridge in the future. For now, in these ruins I lay. And breathe... I've exhausted myself fighting it. I feel I am at this point again, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The only sense of peace throughout the day I receive is here on this floor gazing at the flames. I remember faceless figures from dreams I've had throughout the years and miss them immeasurably. During these times, when the gravity of this world becomes heavy and overwhelming, I turn to fire and feel her warmth and passion cradle me. I regain my trust in this way than through the nervous advice of puzzled relatives. I find I cannot seek solution or resolution from the outside world. I turn in, full yet parched and beg the earth and flame once again to ease the fever. |
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Spending an hour writing the most epic poem of your entire life, and the browser crashes, you - lose - everything. All but the first paragraph... so you will never forget what was lost and never to be remembered.
Like the most painful, cruel mark from the Invisible. Before it was even birthed, it was taken back into the Unknown. I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. For those that write of such passion, I was making love with these words whispered to me from the Muse of art and sex. It flowed like silk, and was held together in the most vulnerable way. I don't know how to feel now, except that I've lost a lover I never met. And now, never will. Fuck. I have nothing now, nothing to write or say. What I would give to reclaim those words...
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