The Art of Spell-Casting, Part VII

Revelation of the Seven Blues: On Dispersion

Photo by Ryan Wilson on Unsplash

Revelation of the Seven Blues

Indigo says there will be a night when the fire drives us back to the water. It will not seem like a choice.

We’ll remember where we came from and why we made a pact with gravity, committing to Earth when once we could fly from star to star like hummingbirds dropping down from the sun at daybreak.

Cerulean says flames will rise up like secrets, reveal their source beneath the seafloor, teach us the impossible is real, transport us to the inner reaches of the humpback whale’s dream where sound and water were dreamed themselves and given form to flow around the core of liquid fire at our very center. Earth, spinning.

Lapis says, take off your beads. The gift of your body needs no adornment. You will see more stars on the way down if you descend naked, and when they die like fireflies on a summer night, you won't be afraid.

Ultramarine says, Hail, Dark Sister. Praise. My colors couldn’t be seen without you. When the keening women curse you, I will protest, burn fragrant smoke in your temples under the hill where the sounds of the false world don’t penetrate.

Azure says, I will be a drink of sweet water springing from the mountain, a blessing on the tongue that will cause you to speak with the earned eloquence of bodhisattvas and angels.

Cobalt says, look up and refuse to be measured by time. Proclaim your being back to the Big Bang and know you are kin to stories rippling from the source of the directions; the genesis of air, fire, water, and earth. Remember yourself as the revelation and speak.

Aqua says, be the anchor in the harbor, the calm water calling sailors home from storms at sea. Be so clear anyone can look right through you to the bottom. Absorb the light’s blessing with open palms. When it’s time, be a willing sacrifice. Commit to gravity and the weight of soil on your bones as Earth reclaims you.

Holy Mary, Star of the Sea, may the blue waves of your robe enfold us in your frequency, the song that birthed us on the first morning before the wind was awake, when fire was dreaming in the embers, and earth was encircling the globe of its being underground, unaware of the light that would soon draw it skyward.

Ashes in air
Bones in earth
Restored by water
We remember, buoyant
We float on the waves

Italian School, 18th Century

Dispersion-the phenomenon of white light splitting into its constitution colors. Example: the rainbow.

Dispersion in Heka-clarity of intention.

Dispersion is the realm of spelling. For every invocation, an equal sacrifice must take place.

Witches, poets abandon not your creations.

The hour is late.

 Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

-Robert Frost

Dear Readers,

The hour is late. I know it. I feel like I’ve always known it. This knowing became urgent about 20 years ago, and in my desperation about my visions, I became vocal about what I saw as a coming apocalypse. I was able to calm myself down by looking to the original meaning of the Greek word. Apocalypse means “unveiling.” I’m not sure why things need to be destroyed to be unveiled and truly seen, but we humans do seem to resist change, and even resist opening our hearts to each other, requiring cataclysm and catastrophe to bring us together.

Its equivalent in pua’aehuehu is Kīlau Pueo, Ruin Medicine. 20 years ago, nobody wanted to hear about Ruin Medicine. Things have changed since then. More people are open because the evidence is about to overpower us. The unveiling is here.

Some people called me crazy, or were just plain concerned for me when I began to share my visions. I went underground and kept silent, healed my trauma so I could speak without urgency and be a calm voice in the storm I knew was coming.

That is why I can say now, the hour is late, but it’s not hopeless. We are not the center of the universe, in control of what happens here on Earth, or anywhere else in the universe, but we can have an impact. We can shift consciousness at will, alter the tapestry, re-weave the skeins of fate. Witches know this. So do poets. At least the ones I love.

As this series nears completion, I find myself with less words, more stillness, no urgency, more tears, a softening heart, acceptance of whatever comes. I am not here to save anyone, not even me. Life is moving through me and I move with it, opening my heart to light and dark as best I can in equal measure. I am not the one to judge the mysteries.

I leave you this week with this fragment from the shooting star that was D.H. Lawrence, who loved Earth and his fellow humans with a passion rarely seen in our cynical age. May you exult in these words, then rest. Prepare to weave with the spool of thread fate hands you. The hour is late.

The New Heaven and Earth, Part VI

 I, IN the sour black tomb, trodden to absolute death
    I put out my hand in the night, one night, and my hand
    touched that which was verily not me
    verily it was not me.
    Where I had been was a sudden blaze
    a sudden flaring blaze!
    So I put my hand out further, a little further
    and I felt that which was not I,
    it verily was not I
    it was the unknown.

    Ha, I was a blaze leaping up!
    I was a tiger bursting into sunlight.
    I was greedy, I was mad for the unknown.
    I, new-risen, resurrected, starved from the tomb
    starved from a life of devouring always myself
    now here was I, new-awakened, with my hand stretching out
    and touching the unknown, the real unknown, the unknown unknown.

    My God, but I can only say
    I touch, I feel the unknown!
    I am the first comer!
    Cortes, Pisarro, Columbus, Cabot, they are noth-
     ing, nothing!
    I am the first comer!
    I am the discoverer!
    I have found the other world!

    The unknown, the unknown!
    I am thrown upon the shore.
    I am covering myself with the sand.
    I am filling my mouth with the earth.
    I am burrowing my body into the soil.
    The unknown, the new world!

    -D.H. Lawrence

Photo by Dan Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash

Kō aloha lā ea

Concentrate on love by way of the light