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editorials | poetry & writing | Feasts of Fire

Into the Goddess
By Luna of the Sibylline Order

The Gregorian chant wallows in Her mind and flows out through Her trembling lips:

La la ley oh ye a ley a ley ah
De ohst a la a la a ley ah
Hey non e a ley ah a yest ye a ley la
I yest e non a ley la

Passion burns down and out through Her fingertips, settling in the inner most part of Her deep dark Womb. Out of Her Womb come deep bellows of sorrowful, noble nothingness, a feeling that sometimes overcomes her in this world of false images. Words flutter on Her warm, wet tongue as She helplessly cries out to the Great Mother Goddess, Aphrodite, for everlasting understanding of this beautiful, sweet, smooth, voluptuous body She has inherited. The Moon so full, as if ready to explode, lights Her naked body aglow as She stands trembling, shuttering in Her peace and wholeness. She hears the call of the Wolf. Answering She lets him know She is celebrating Her body, Her Goddess Self. The Wolf answers back in an understanding howl. She reigns.

Deep in the night, Cora stands in an open circle of Trees in an illuminated Forest. She has come for a celebration of Her Womanhood, a place She feels exhilaration and endless power. Here, where her roots lay with the heavily mossed Trees, She has escaped all possibilities of judgment. This is the transcendence She has dreamed of. Here She is Cora, a Goddess of substance, spirituality, and strength. With Her She has brought the sacred Water blessed by the Great Mother Goddess, Teleia. As well, Cora holds close to Her, between Her barren Breasts, a silver Chalice alive with thick, dark, red blood of Her own body. Her blood symbolizes her abundant fertility and rich, ripe, life-giving fluids. The Moons reflection shimmers its fullness in the blood as She raises it up as a sacrifice to the Mother Goddess, chanting:

Wa ley ye la ah tam sham ley e stom
Ye lem ye ley har ye num la ohmmm

Around her lay the glow of candles, burning a desire for Cora's body. Finger cymbals play a soft dance somewhere in the Forest and Her body begins to move.

With this blood I drink for You
My body is bare, pure, silken and full of sweet honey
I shall worship it, for it is Mine For You,
I drink this blood

This body is truthful
This body gives Me life
It swells up with more than My life
It creates and empowers
Let the fruit of My Womb give new life
For You I drink this blood

Let them see My deep crevices
Let them feel My every curve
Let them dare to rise to Me
Let them dive in
For You I drink this blood

For the last time, Cora brings the silver Chalice to Her lips and drinks Her blood. She tastes the familiar richness of life.

Gracefully Cora bends to the Forest floor, gathering the Seeds of the fallen Fruit. Cora lies on Her back, still, silent, shimmering in the light of the Moon. She places the Seeds of fertility and life in a Spiral shape, signifying a Birth-Death-Rebirth cycle, over Her full belly and swollen Breasts. She will be reborn. Cora creates the spiral from instinct and smiles as She does. With the blessed ever flowing and changing Water, She sprinkles the droplets into Her Navel, her mark of motherhood and centrality. She fills it until it overflows and droplets trickle over the sides of Her stomach, down along Her arched back, cooling Her heated skin. The Owl coos and sees Her in all of Her dimensions. She feels his gaze and sinks into Her tranquility.

Gothic chants move out of Her uncontrollably:

Ohm yea ohm de ohm ye la ley
De ohm cha te me ohm ohm ohm

All perceptions disappear and Cora's body wraps itself into a twisted coil, like a sleeping Snake. She sheds the old and slithers into the new.

Transcended, Cora stands and vibrates to the beat of Her drum, a sound that rattles her into ecstasy. Her hands pat softly and then harder as She feels it burn and move inside of Her. Faster She beats. Her heart beating with Her wild dance, so transcending, She loses Herself. Cora has gone. She is somewhere else. With wailing arms and legs She dances in the sacred circle of fire, surrendering Her body and mind to the Great Mother Goddess. She comes down slowing the beat of Her drum to a light tap. Stretching Her chest and raising Her arms up to the skies she moans in triumph:

You have given Me grace, life

Let Me love You
I will protect You, for You give Me great gifts

I shall never distrust You
I will make You My All

Breathlessly, She whispers into the night. Cora stands with arms out, neck back, listening to the sounds of life. Tambourines, whistles, violins, and the beat of a drum echo as She stands, opening up Her fullness, Her hidden Goddess.

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