Tuesday, 24 May 2011
The Dog that climbed a tree and a fool's sacrifice..
Gone and past now, the Rites of spring, all headings are firmly fixed toward the feast of the Baptist, the true heat of the midsummer sun and the unknown dangers that lurk within Salome's captivating dance.
The Blossom upon the white thorn now all but gone, blown to into the air by the warmer winds of early promise, yet outside this home of mine there is a silent call, a precious gem within a sea of fecundity, the blushed tint of our dear friend Rosa Canina who has climbed to the top of the now green May to once more crown her with a jewel worthy of her beautiful spirit, perfectly complementing her gown of emerald green with true virtue.
A creature of the darker months, or so I would like to think, the cloak of winter now a distant memory yet this surrounding vision of Nerthus at her most radiant never will cease to captivate and distract.
Is it not true, that in order to truly appreciate what we have and hold dear, is to have lost it within some unforeseen or foreseen moment, can we truly enjoy the company of others if we have never felt alone, love, if we have never felt loved, bring Justice, if we were never the victim, good health, if we have never felt pain or acceptance if we have never been rejected.
Perhaps, yet those moments that we have, the ones that tear our fibre apart serve a purpose, for without them we could become emotionless fools, incapable of learning the lessons strewn upon the path, the trials and tribulations of this life may be looked upon as blessings and not a curse, if the human mind will allow.
Lucky is the soul who would blunder it's way through this existence and never need to pay good heed to these lessons, a good life indeed for a foolish one, never to stop and take note of the flowers that he has so carelessly trodden in his wake, while a wiser being might stop to smell the scent, hurt and angered by the fact that another had so carelessly turned the blooms to dust. Regretfully, this is the way of things.
Success within our modern world is often measured by financial wealth and accumulation of useless possessions, those with a clumsy foot willing to walk roughshod over the treasures that truly lie before them are rewarded (or so they would like to think), with wealth, property and prosperity, the Fool is king in this world, yet one day that world will end and where will the fool be then, these riches are the trappings of a false world, a human construct that has no bearing upon true spiritual growth, in time the King will be the sacrifice once again and the wiser folk will dance with joy upon his bones, as they shall become dry and bleached beneath Lucifer's own flame, lying trodden in the dust with the skeletons of the underdogs.
So, Simple pleasures are torches that light the way, friends who would walk and play within the light of the moon, the wiser words of another that bring a smile to the face and the treasured company of those who you hold to be dear, bright lights indeed to chase away the shadows of hurt and regret, the finest of dancing partners.
And how we shall dance upon that day my dear brothers and sisters.
Flags Flax and Fodder. Tony.